Fortunate Son
by Loose Cannon Doccy
Summary: You'd think someone raised by Rex Goodwin himself would be a fortunate son. But when you're an impulsive, aggressive and provocative punk who acts before he thinks, you'd be inclined to disagree. But when you're wrapped up in a world-spanning destiny and are haunted by someone who looks just like you, how could you be anything else? One thing's for sure: he's no Fortunate Son.
1. Prologue: It Ain't Me

_**Prologue: It Ain't Me**_

My left forearm hurts like hell in these situations. Whenever I'm pissed off, it starts going at it like it's trying to tunnel through my muscle and bone and come out the other side like a red-hot hunk of metal. It makes me hiss in pain whenever it does, and that just makes me more pissed off.

It's always been like this, for as long as I can remember. I've never really known much about it, except what little my old man told me about it. He tells me that when it's burning, it just means that it's reminding me of something. Sure, I tell him. If it's reminding me that I want to beat the shit out of someone, then it's sure as hell making it clear.

Uh, right. Introductions, shit. I forgot. I'm Jay Goodwin. I'm the adopted son of Rex Goodwin. I'm 15 years old, and I've just been arrested because I beat up a fellow student at the Neo Domino Duel Academy. Big shocker, I know. Either you didn't expect to be listening to an unstable psycho, or didn't expect said unstable psycho being the fortunate kid to have been taken in by your benevolent overlord director of the Bureau.

To be honest, I don't really remember what I did. It's so damn hazy. All I can really recall is just me pushing somebody on the ground and then punching… punching… punching. When I came to I was already being pulled away by Bureau officers with no idea what the hell was going on.

Sure would've been nice if they gave me some food though. I didn't get to have lunch, and the boxed lunch that my old man's maids were so kind as to cook for me is still in my bag which either got confiscated or just got left to spoil back at the Academy. What a waste of good food. Imagine how many kids in Satellite that thing could feed, am I right?

Well, I'm a kid too. Legally. I'm only 15, and my custody is in the hands of the city's most prestigious man, so this means nothing. The old man'll probably just throw me in house arrest for a few weeks before sending me back, which I'll graciously ignore and sneak into the city like an unruly punk kid would do.

And like a kid, I have an imaginary friend that I talk to. Unlike the kind of imaginary friends you might've had, this guy… he's a bit different.

"This again?" 'He' asks as he leans up against the two-way mirror. He's one unsettling son of a bitch to look at, I'll say that much. Mostly because looking at him is like looking in a friggin' mirror. Though of course, his taste in fashion is worse than mine. My hair looks better brown than red, thanks.

"Why are we playing along with this again?" He asks, and I can't tell if he's being rhetorical or if he's genuinely confused. I never really could read the guy, but then again it'd be like reading myself. I don't think I could ever say something unbiased about myself, and by extension, him.

I wince as my forearm burns again, and I shake it a little to try and distract myself from it. "Dunno," I answer half-assedly in an attempt to get him off my ass. The red-haired me walks over to the table and starts tapping it with his fingers in the way he just _knows_ I can't stand.

"I think you do," He says with a sneer, the tapping just getting louder and louder. I start gritting my teeth and I can feel my fists involuntarily clench. The snake's mark on my forearm burns harder and harder, my breathing becomes heavier and heavier. I stop really breathing and begin just involuntarily snarling with every heave of air.

His smile just gets wider and wider the more he sees me get ticked off. I'm sick of it, I get up and slam my fists into the table with an angry growl to get him to stop fucking tapping his damn fingers. If he wasn't imaginary, I'd have killed him the moment his smug tone of voice said my name. "Temper," he says, and I give him the most hateful glare I can muster.

All that does is get him to get up and lean back up against the mirror. I hate him doing that, he really is making me involuntarily look behind it just to make me look more crazy to whoever's watching. "I'd have a much easier time controlling my temper if you'd stop showing your face around me," I sneer back at him, stretching my fingers as if I'm about to punch something.

_I want to hit him. I want to punch that grin off his face. I want to cave his damn skull in._

"You sure about that? Wasn't me who got you arrested, you know," he taunts back and my snake's mark feels like it's gouging into my flesh. "Shut the fuck up," I say, but he just smiles even wider. "Make me," he replies.

I want to. I want to so bad, I want to make him go away. But I can't hurt him. He's imaginary, so all that'll do is hit the mirror. So instead, I just slam the bottom of my fists into the table in front of me, rattling the handcuffs something fierce and producing one hell of a racket from the table's hollow metal near-buckling under the force.

"I know damn well who got me arrested, _asshole_. Don't act like I don't know." His all-knowing attitude reminds me too much of the old man. It pisses me off something fierce. And the worst part is, like my old man, this guy, this imaginary friend of mine knows a hell of a lot that he's not letting me in on.

But I don't want to know. Whatever he tells me, it's gonna just be what he wants me to know. Might as well be ignorant in that case. Or he'd just lie to me. Just like old man Rex in that regard. Besides, I might not remember, but I know what I do and what I don't do. That kid, he pissed me off, so I beat him up. Nothing else to it. I'm not screwed up like that, I'm just an aggressive punk. It's just me.

Whatever he's insinuating, I'm not fucking buying it.

When I blink, he's left again. My forearm isn't burning up any longer. Now it's just a mess of curving lines like always. I hear the rattling of a lock, and I move my handcuffed arms off the table as three men step inside the interrogation room. Two officers, and one adoptive father.

"Jay," Rex says to acknowledge my presence.

"Old man," I reply disrespectfully. Back in the day he'd get angry with me when I called him that, so I didn't stop. These days all he does is crease his brow in either annoyance or disappointment. He glances at my left forearm, and I notice his expression - there's a slight pleased smile there. That worries me. I've just beaten up some kid, my snake's mark has been burning like a bastard and he's… happy?

He's up to something, and whatever it is I'm not comfortable with it.

"What happened?" He asks, but there's no concern in his voice. Whatever. I'm not about to care either. "They must have told you," I reply. "I beat someone up at the Academy."

"Why?"

I scoff. "'Cos he was pissing me off."

"Why was he?"

Shit. Why was he pissing me off? I don't even remember _who_ it was I punched black and blue. I can't have the old man getting ideas about me. "Why wasn't he," I spit back, hoping that he'll drop the subject.

Rex breathes in and sits down in the chair opposite me. He leans forward, tenting his fingers underneath his chin as I reflexively tilt a little backwards, or as backwards as I can get with cuffed hands.

"Show me your hands," he orders. I don't say anything, and all I do is lean back and look around. The two officers are both on opposite sides of the table - and it's pretty damn obvious what's going to happen if I don't to me. That being said, I'm not about to bow down.

"Jay, please. Show me your hands." I let out some sound from my nose, before spitting on the table in front of Rex. He sighs, and I hear the officers from behind me approach. One grabs the chain holding the handcuffs together and pulls them towards Rex, while the other grabs my neck and slams me into the table. I don't cry out, but it's a damn close thing. Instead, I start panting and breathing heavily through gritted teeth. I struggle to make it clear that I'm not bowing down willingly, but two grown officers against a punk kid in handcuffs isn't exactly a fair fight. Especially not when I struggle a bit too much and one officer hits me with an electric baton on my back.

That gets me to scream, alright. My forearm's burning again, and I'm crumpled over the table with my mark in full view of my old man. I can feel his gloved hands caress and prod it. I know it's his because one of his hands is icy cold and of metal. I start snarling and panting like an animal from the pain and anger.

Eventually I breathe in and with my hands still cuffed, push off the two officers and axe-handle the closest of them in the skull in the confusion. I can feel the helmet crackle and distort from the force of the blow, and he goes to the ground immediately.

Then so do I when I get shock-batonned yet again. I fall down on the cold, hard floor with a strangled cry. I feel the force of the baton strike me again and I scream and convulse. I don't care how manly you say you are, even grown men start crying for mommy after enough hits from that fucking thing.

It's the worst thing I've ever experienced, not counting the one time Rex decided to try and introduce me to the Neo Domino elite. I hate the feeling when my body is twitching and convulsing of its own, when I'm pinned down underneath someone's boot and I can only move as they want me to. I desperately try to get up, but a third strike gets me to change my mind.

My eyes are crying involuntarily, I'm sweating and out of breath. I can't… I don't have any control. I start hyperventilating and my body goes limp. I flop around for a second but I can barely even feel what's moving and what's dead still until I can feel that my arms are pinned under me and I'm in the process of dislocating them.

"That's enough," I hear Dad say, and I chide myself for even calling him that in my thoughts. I feel a foot be removed from my back, and a pair of hands pulls me to my feet. I can't tell if it's the old man's or just an officer. My legs feel like they're made of jelly and about to give out under me at any second. They're still shaking and twitching madly without me doing a single thing, and they feel so damn sore.

I lift my head up and there he is, with his smug smile and his red hair. "Time to go home," he says as I'm carried out of the interrogation room. As the door closes again, I see his smile widen just a little bit before he disappears behind it. What the hell is with that guy… even for an imaginary friend, he's a weird one.

Friend. More like an imaginary pain in the ass.

Mid-thought I feel myself be thrown backwards, and I see the officer that held me throw me inside a car, I land back-first with a soft 'whump'. Figures, as if he'd do anything he can get others to do. The door is closed on me before I can do anything, but I still put one hand against the window regardless.

And like that I notice that I'm not cuffed anymore. I turn my head to the left and see two heads on the other side of the wall that's there for the safety of the Bureau officers. In the driver's seat I see what must be the other officer, and his helmet has a very visible dent in it which makes me smile a little when I see it.

And in the other seat, I see my old man. I let out a 'tch' as he sees me looking at him and turn away. I feel the car rumble from the engine being turned on and soon we're well on our way to wherever the hell the old man wants to dump me. This isn't the first time the Bureau grabbed me by the collar, you know. Once it was for loitering, then disturbing the peace, then theft and now assault. Look at me, Mister Goodwin, your boy is all grown up and violent.

I never spent a day in the Facility of course, and neither did I get a Marker. That would look badly on the great Director Goodwin, wouldn't it? He's learned that keeping me out of the public eye is the smartest thing to do, since I'll obviously just embarrass him if I do. Though I don't get why he's still keeping me around, why hasn't he just unadopted my punk self and dumped me in the adoption service's lap so I can go bother some other family?

It's what's on my left forearm, of course. It has to be that. It's glowed before, but never this bad. Before I could just cover it up with cloth no problem, but now its blood-red gleam gets clear as day. Shines right through anything. Hell if I know what it's really about, but the old man knows and he isn't telling. I make a mental note to go and visit a library next time I run off so I can try and figure out what the hell this thing is. And ideally, if there's a way to get rid of it outside cutting off my left arm.

"A pipe dream if I've ever heard one," I hear him say to my left. I instinctively put my right hand over my forearm and clutch it tight. This time, I do everything I can to just ignore him. As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't exist. Not for me, or anyone for that matter. He's just another voice I don't bother listening to. I crane my neck downwards and close my eyes, trying my best to just focus on anything other than having to listen to anything he has to say.

It surprises me that apart from his introductory remark, he doesn't say anything. He stays silent, just like me. The worst thing is that it freaks me out. Every other time he's ever appeared he's been doing his damndest to piss me off, either by saying things to me or making me say something to him that someone else overhears. To have him suddenly just… stop gives me the goosebumps. Worse still, my arm's starting to hurt less and less. I can absolutely still feel it, but it's… calming down.

After what feels like hours, I feel the car finally stop outside my old man's home. For the lack of a better description, it's just huge. Eat your heart out trust fund kids, my old man's got a bigger house than your dad ever will. Being the guy responsible for keeping the status quo makes you basically the one who runs the entire show in a place like Neo Domino, and people are willing to do anything to give you good reason to keep doing your job well. An absolutely massive mansion of a home, butlers and maids at your beck and call and more status than you know what to do with.

I liked rubbing that in people's faces for the heck of it back in Academia, if only really to those dumbasses who think they're hot shit because mommy and daddy are rich enough to be living in the world's one and only utopia and flaunt their wealth and status like it's a birthright. Me, an adopted punk, having the same things as they do, and more of them? It's enough to make someone doubt themselves if a violent, impulsive delinquent like me had that.

The door out is opened for me by someone in a butler's uniform and I lazily lift my head up to look forward. I hear him say "-will be handled personally, not to worry." and I figure he's talking about me and my… incident, he'd tell me to say. I groan and push myself out of the squad car and onto my legs. They're a bit wobbly after my session with a shock baton, but otherwise I stand up just fine. A gloved arm tries to take me by the hand, likely to lead me inside but I shake it off. I can walk just fine on my own, thank you.

As I start walking forward, I hear what I figure to be my old man's footsteps follow me along the way. After a few seconds he overtakes me but then slows down his tempo so I can keep up. He's planning something, and it unsettles me that I don't know what. The huge oak doors at the entrance of his mansion are opened by more staff and we walk inside. The moment we do, my eyes fall on a particular place right in front of me.

It's an elevator leading underneath the mansion, where I've never been. Not for lack of trying mind you, I've several times tried to break in with the help of a crowbar I "found" on one of my trips into the city. I've had half a mind to just start digging instead, if only because it's the only other way I can think of. We walk past murals of ancient deities or figures, all of which I know nothing about. I'm not his son, and I certainly haven't developed his fetish for ancient history.

That's when I realize where he's leading me. He's leading me _to_ the elevator. Whatever's past it, he's going to show me. On one hand it piques my interest, on the other hand it makes me wary as all hell. He's showing it to me _after I beat someone to near-death._ My whole body begins to tighten up, winding up like a spring. I'm ready to start punching my way out of this situation if anything even remotely unusual starts happening. Maybe it's some secret laboratory he's got under there, maybe he's finally gonna start cutting me open to figure out what's making this damn mark tick. My teeth grit and my fists clench as the elevator door closes and starts taking the two of us underground.

Halfway through the descent, I feel a cold robotic hand on my shoulder and it takes all of my willpower to not immediately jerk away from his touch, because as worried as I am I'm not about to give him a reason to incapacitate me so he can get to doing whatever he wants to do to me. I slowly turn my head towards him, and I think he notices the anxiety in my eyes when I look at him, because he gives me a soft smile.

It does not assuage any of my worries.

I'm near breaking point when the elevator finally stops and he leads me into a large chamber. Inside is a… temple, I think. A huge one - how the hell did Goodwin get something this big and this ornate underneath this place? The second thing that strikes me is the red light coming from the floor. In the shape of… something. I just stand there for a solid minute, trying to take this sight in and process it. Rex just stands there, waiting patiently while I'm busy being completely bewildered.

"Jay," he then says to get my attention. I snap out of my funk and turn towards him. "-allow me to welcome you to the ranks of Iliaster."

_**Prologue: It Ain't Me - END**_

* * *

**Author's Note:** First of all, let me thank you for reading the prologue chapter to _Fortunate Son_. In case you aren't familiar with a previous story of mine, _The Darkness Within_, then let me first explain that _Fortunate Son_ is a complete rewrite of _The Darkness Within_. The previous story is something I wrote more or less on a whim, and making it up as I went along resulting in a mostly incoherent mess, that while I'm not proud of for content, is something I'm proud of because I actually did finish it.

But I've grown, and my writing style has changed drastically, and I feel personally that I should rewrite it in accordance. Don't worry though, _Fortunate Son_ is entirely unrelated to _The Darkness Within_ plot-wise, with only two characters from it being ported over to _Fortunate Son._ You don't need to know a single thing from _The Darkness Within_ to enjoy _Fortunate Son_, and in fact I would reccommend that you do not read _The Darkness Within_ regardless, as it might colour your interpretation of characters and events in _Fortunate Son_.

Second of all, allow me to extend a huge hand to a good friend of mine, _**EibonVirgo**_. She's also a writer here in the 5D's section, and she's the one I can thank for having given me the motivation to keep writing when I felt I was stuck in a rut back in the day. Her story, _**To Be Human**_ is an absolutely excellent read that I can warmly reccommend that you give a read. If you liked anything from this prologue chapter, you'll love her work.

Thirdly, I want to make a few things very clear on the nature of how I approach the source material of Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's in this fan-fiction. I will be following the plot of the first season mostly as you see it in the show, but with some marked changes by utilizing the original plot structure that was axed in favor of what you can see in the anime proper. It won't be Rex who is the final boss of the Dark Signer Arc, for example.

After that, the entire plot with the Three Emperors, the Meklords, the Arc Cradle and Z-One will not be happening. The WRGP will be a major in-story event, but the Three Tenors and their Meklord Emperors will not be a factor. Instead, the story will revolve around Iliaster and the Arcadia Movement, alongside a certain villain from the WRGP arc that was not given much screentime originally.

Also, another thing - I will _**not**_ be using any custom-made cards for any duels between characters at all. The only cards you'll see are cards you yourself can use in real life, or cards that have made a direct appearance in the 5D's anime. This is in the interest of making duels far easier to follow, which leads me into another subject - how duels will be transcribed. When a monster is summoned, its information will be displayed as such:

**Junk Warrior  
****Lv: 5  
ATK: 2300  
**

In the interest of brevity, only the name, level and relevant statistic will be shown. I do not want to clog down the chapter by writing in redundant information, hence this is all that will be shown. If a monster has an increase or decrease in statistics, it will be shown like this:

**Junk Warrior  
****ATK: 2300 - 3200**

Again, for the sake of brevity. The rules of the game will be in accordance with what the rules were at the time of 5D's being aired - (the beginning player draws on the first turn, etc.). Turbo Duels are the same case, they will be using the same rules as are explained in the anime itself, with Speed Spells being the only allowed Spell Cards in the game.

* * *

That will be all the information that I have to share for now. I hope your interest has been piqued by the prologue so far. If you have something to share, please to tell me in a review - any and all constructive criticism is warmly welcomed. I fully intend to make this story as good as I can possibly make it, and any advice, insight or comments you have to share will be an immense help in that regard.


	2. Chapter 1: Smells Like Teenage Spirit

_**Chapter 1: Smells Like Teenage Spirit**_

The book "The Battle Through The Ages" goes flying across my room and lands a full four feet from the garbage bin I was aiming for. With a sound that's half a hiss and half a groan, I turn away from it and start flipping through my deck rather than read any of the Iliaster lore books that my old man has been giving me. It's all crap about some dragon god that he worships and serves, one that supposedly selects people to act as its representatives to fight against the big bad dark in the name of blah blah blah, religious pseudo-history, blah blah blah. Repeat for about five hundred pages.

If it wasn't for the lines on my own left arm, I'd have used the book as toilet paper. Now, after all that Rex unpacked on me it's just boring more than anything else. Besides, I'm 16 now. I'm an even bigger boy than I was four weeks ago. I couldn't give less of a damn what the symbolism of the ancient reliefs that the People of the Stars used to depict the Signers and how to represent them accurately.

What does interest me is whatever the old man will have me do, now. He asked me if I ever really learned anything about dueling at Academia, and I told him no, after laughing for a few seconds. He asked if I was any good, and I told him to watch the tapes he must have of whenever I did duel, since he's so interested. Funny thing is I was actually right when I off-handedly assumed that he'd recorded as many of my duels as he could. I could tell by his expression change when I mentioned it. He grimaced for a second, and I noticed.

Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. He did mention the "Signer Dragons" to me, a group of five different dragons, all aspects of the big red itself granted to its five Signers - and apparently, they exist as cards. He even showed them to me - well, images of them. For obvious reason, he only had images and not the real things. They were in the hands of their rightful Signer owners by now.

Stardust Dragon - Red Dragon Archfiend - Black Rose Dragon - and Ancient Fairy Dragon. All grand, powerful dragons that make the inner card-head in me drool with jealousy. What I wouldn't give to get my hands on one of those four dragons.

Four dragons, with a fifth missing… I notice that while I've been pondering, my hands have been going to a card of my own. My Dark End Dragon. I remember showing it to him, but he just shook his head. It's no Signer Dragon. It's just any old card. It's served me well while I was in Academia, so I shouldn't get so angry looking at it like I am. I've got the mark, don't I? I should have a dragon of my own.

But whatever he wants me to do, he wants me to know my way around Dueling. Which means Signer Dragon or not, I'll be needing Dark End Dragon - and I think it'll come through for me like always. I flip it around and put it back in my Deck, and give it a reassuring pat for good measure.

Dueling to me is a… it's a funny thing. To me, at least, it's something markedly more straightforward and honest than most other things. It's a game, sure, but it's a game with a bit of honor. It's divorced from all the bullshit I can't stand, it's just a direct contest between two people. It's like a sport, and I love that about it. So if the old man wants me to duel for Iliaster, then I've got no objections bar perhaps him just up and telling me who and where rather than all this shoving-books-down-my-throat crap.

I can't focus like this. I get up and start taping my fists, because I'm about to start properly destressing. After having wrecked a few pieces of furniture and a door back in the day, the old man deigned to give me a punching bag. His mansion didn't have a gym, so I'd have to make do. Besides, I don't want to have to get his permission to punch away my frustrations. So, I just get to punching.

The bag swings satisfyingly with every blow I land, and I can't resist cracking a smile as I imagine the bag to be my imaginary friend for a second, and I relish the feeling of beating him the fuck up. I start to almost just comfortably lose myself in the enjoyment, calmly beating seven different kinds of shit out of this bag.

And then I realize it. I was slipping away, and I immediately shake my head to regain my focus. And then hit hits me - the punching bag, that is. It swings back and hits me straight in the head, and I fall backwards onto the carpet. It doesn't hurt physically, but it feels like my pride has just been brutally stabbed in the back. When I push myself off the floor, there he is, leaning up against the bag and looking at me like he's about to burst into laughter.

"Shut your damn mouth," I breathe as I get to my feet again, and I make a point not to notice whatever smartass expression he's brandishing as his response to it. I swing my right arm after him, but while I was looking down, he was already gone. And so there he just leaves me, alone in my room looking like an idiot. At least I'm alone so nobody can see me.

The door to my room opens, and I bite down the urge to yell in annoyance and frustration. In steps Aya, the maid who was assigned to babysit me. She's about thirty-three, I think, and she's the one who more or less raised me for as long as I can remember. She's the one who took an impulsive brat and spanked him when he was being naughty. And now she's the one who has to put up with an impulsive punk who's too strong and too fast for her to spank anymore. She should be glad that I don't feel like returning the favor.

"Young master?" She always calls me that with the same apprehension that she used to have in her tone when she'd scold me when I was younger. She can't do much else, but that she can. I give her a "hmm?" in response to acknowledge her, but I don't look towards her or anything. Instead I walk over to my mirror and check myself to see if there's any obvious bruises on my body. I pull up my dark brown hair and wince slightly at the stiffness of it, and examine my forehead. Luckily, there's no bruises, nothing noteworthy except for a slight stream of blood coming out of my nostrils which I wipe away with my taped left hand.

"Master Goodwin has sent for you," she says and I don't reply anything. As I start pulling the tape off of my hands, I notice that she's still there. I sigh and go over to get a shirt on. As I pull out a dark green buttoned military shirt, I say "Give me a minute to get dressed," and she acquiesces. Out of habit, I pull out a fresh blue Academia uniform but I stop myself before I put it on. Right, I left Academia after beating up a fellow student. After a bit of pondering, I just tie the uniform around my waist and let it just flop around. No way I'm gonna need to ever wear it properly, anyways. I give my Deck a final look before collecting it and my standard-issue duel disk, and getting up to find out whatever the hell the old man actually wants.

At first, I expect that she'll just guide me to his office where he likes to spend what free time he has left and then the old man will talk at me for a few hours before sending me back to my room. So, imagine my surprise when I'm led outside and Aya points to a black, unmarked business car. I'm… genuinely shocked. The only times I've ever been driven are in the morning to Academia, and then in the afternoon to head immediately home. Now I'm being ferried into Neo Domino because the he sent for me. My immediate conclusion is that it has something to do with my admittance into Iliaster.

Iliaster, huh? You know, I didn't know for _sure_ that the old man was involved in some secret occult Illuminati-style bullshit conspiracy stuff, but it doesn't surprise me. He's got that "string-pulling" aesthetic going for him. Good thing I've always been a fan of scissors, though. I'm tempted to undermine what he's doing just to spite him, if only he wasn't actually helping to protect the world from dark horrors imprisoned within the earth. Or maybe he isn't, I don't really know. All I know is all the books he has on the subject bore me to tears.

With an annoyed grunt, I get into the car and sit down. I place my disk and deck on the seat next to me and don't put on the seatbelt. I never do, just because it gets under people's skin. And I love doing that, a lot more than I should, really. Whoever's driving this car is ferrying around the son of Rex Goodwin, the damn Director of the Public Security Bureau. _He's gonna be so freaked out, and he's gonna drive slow so I show up late, that'll really piss of the old man-_

Then my train of thought just sort of… crashes, as I see Aya get in and seat herself in the driver's seat. A few seconds pass, and then she, in a very even tone, says, "Master Jay, put on your seatbelt."

I don't do or say anything. She doesn't say anything either. At this point, it's a standoff. Both of us are waiting for the other to do or say something - for the other to lose patience. From the passenger seat, he appears suddenly after I blink and starts eyeing her up. "She's one heck of a maid," he says. "Her hands are so smooth," he says as he runs his hands across hers. She doesn't react one bit at first. "It's hard to believe these hands used to give you the daily asswhooping." After that, her right-hand twitches and she moves it away from him.

I have to remind myself that she can't see him or feel him. To her, he isn't there. I feel my breathing get heavy, and the son of a bitch smirks at me, he's doing this deliberately. That motherfucker's doing this on purpose. I decide to bite the bullet and so I put on the seatbelt. His smirk doesn't change, but he retreats back into the passenger seat again. When I blink, he's gone. I sigh, and Aya's eyebrows just kind of lower a little. She probably thinks I was just being unruly for the sake of being unruly, as usual.

Tch. Of course, she'd think that. I frown and start looking out the window as Aya starts the car that's meant to take me to the old man so he can brief me for whatever it is he wants me to do. If he asks me to write an essay on one of the books that he gave me, I swear I'll start using them as toilet paper regardless of what's in 'em. He's unveiled this secret society of his to me, if he's gonna blue-ball me on it even now, he can go fuck himself. Him and his 'Iliaster'. Him and his crimson dragon god or whatever the hell it is.

Rubbing against the leather upholstery in this car feels disgusting, especially since I'm still covered in a slight sheen of sweat from my exercise, and it feels like my arms, who aren't covered by clothing kind of half-stick to the seats. It feels like the seats are gently trying to peel my skin off, and I involuntarily shudder from the uncomfortable sensation. To try and distract myself from the feeling, I decide to look outside through the car window at the buildings of Neo Domino, to maybe get a feeling for the sights and shit. Anything, really.

It's a really weird sight, Neo Domino. I remember staring at it wide-eyed back when I was first thrown into Academia instead of just being homeschooled and was driven there for the first time. It was… strange, to be seeing something that I'd only ever seen before from a distance, or through pictures. Now, I can't help but remind myself of what kind of place to live it is, and who's running the show. The old man is. I can't shake the feeling that he's everywhere in this place, that his gloved fingerprints are on everything that happens. The fact that he's part of this "Iliaster" just makes that feeling worse. And here I am, being moved to him like a pawn being moved to protect the king.

I wasn't exactly given much choice whether or not to join, either. I beat up somebody, my mark started burning and then I was all perfect to join his secret society. I don't know anything, so I damn well hope he'll just give it to me straight once I show up. Whatever he wants me to do, it's obviously got to be related to all this Signer nonsense he's given me so many books about. As I'm driven across the upper highway towards the center of the city, containing the Bureau headquarters I start to speculate on what it could be. Maybe he wants me to find one Signer, beat them senseless and drag them into containment or something so he can poke them and see what makes them tick like he did with me.

A good start, but I don't buy that. He's specifically inquired to whether or not I'm any good at dueling, so that has to be related. Well, he did show me images of those Signer Dragons being cards… Maybe he wants me to duel one of the people he thinks are Signers, or something. To… confirm whether or not they're Signers, maybe?

As I'd been thinking, the car had pulled in via a private ramp off of the inner-city freeway and into a private Bureau parking lot. As Aya slowly and patiently parked the car, I began to stretch my arms just in case. Who knows what the old man might have planned, it'd be stupid of me not to be expect the worst when I'm dealing with a religious conspiracy. Who knows, they might be into some weird shit like human sacrifice or something. Wouldn't surprise me, given the tone of the fucking books I half-skimmed. Whoever wrote them had a tendency to go on and on on tangents about depictions rather than just fucking saying what the hell the whole thing was about and then going into detail.

I didn't let Aya wait and I opened the door on my own time, practically jumping out of the backseat and I land hunched-over from the swift movement. I turn around and reach in for my Duel Disk, noticing Aya's stern glare as I went. Not that I really gave a shit, but it's something over her after losing the little seatbelt argument. Better than nothing, I guess. I slam the door in behind me and start heading for the nearest elevator. I shout a "You coming?" to the maid as I press the button to call for the lift. After hearing the distinctive "beep" that signaled a locked car, she went to follow me - still in her maid uniform and all.

As she stopped next to me, but just slightly behind me, I could practically feel the silent disdain from her as the elevator went 'pling' and the doors opened. When I was a kid, that kind of feeling would have me crying in anticipation of punishment. Now, it just makes me a little antsy. But also giddy, in a way. If she wants to pinch my cheek and scold me, she's welcome to fucking try. I'm a grown punk now with a penchant for beating up people next to me unprovoked, (though I resent that. I'm just very easily provoked) not a whiny little brat. She probably figures that whatever she's paid isn't enough to risk an assbeating, and I don't blame her for thinking that to be honest.

She presses a button, and the elevator starts ascending. This is it, then. I find myself stepping a little on the floor like a boxer in an attempt to alleviate my impatience, moving just a little bit up and down, left and right, like I'm expecting a fight at any moment. I don't exactly get why, but I still feel like I'm heading into some serious shit.

Finally, the door opens and Aya leads me in through a corridor that goes along a large, panoramic window that looks out over Neo Domino. The first thing that strikes me is holy fuck, I'm high up.

I've never had a problem as far as vertigo is concerned, but just being this high up and with this great of a view can't help but make me just a little queasy if nothing else. I power it down though; this is my first formal "Iliaster" meeting and I don't think I'd make a fantastic impression by getting sick in a bag at first. I'd much rather make an unruly impression myself, rather than just projectile vomit into the old man's face, as much as that would bring be great joy now that I think about it. You know, scratch that earlier thought, maybe getting a bit sick wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

Aya walks over to a solid wall and presses a small console that makes what I just assumed was a solid wall raise itself up like a gate, and I immediately recognize the tall grey-haired bastard standing there, his back turned towards me as he stands there, staring at several different video feeds that I can't make out from this far away. Standing beside him is a purple-haired shortass who I can now see is wearing what looks like clown makeup. Eugh. What the hell kind of cult is Iliaster?

"Ah, Aya. Thank you for bringing Jay here." Aya bows in deference outside the entrance and tilts her head as to gesture for me to enter. After a moment, I do, and the door closes behind me. Until it closes, Goodwin and the clown say nothing. Seems that they want secrecy. As the door finally hits the floor with a "plonk", the old man finally turns around to look at me. He's got that usual soft, "I know your every move, thought and idea because I planted them in you" smile on his face, but it fades a little bit when he sees how I look. I probably look like a half-rabid dog in his eyes.

"I'd like you to meet the Vice Director of the Bureau, Jay. Jay, meet Yeager," and my eyes widen in surprise. This walking joke is vice director of the Bureau? What kind of low standards does the old man have? "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Jay Goodwin. As your father said, I am Yeager, Vice Director. I hope we will work together well," he finishes his statement with a pitch-perfect bow, one which I absolutely do not return. I don't even say anything, I just let my expression of confusion, bewilderment and disdain speak for itself. What a joke this guy is.

The old man lets out the classic "my son is an uncontrollable punk with no manners" sigh, and Yeager notices my rudeness, but either graciously decides to ignore it or isn't inclined to cause a scene. Probably thinks matters at hand are too important to bother, and I turn towards Goodwin to pay at least a little attention to what he wants. He pulls out a holographic console and pushes a single button, and one of the video feeds is moved from the wall of the room to over in the middle of the room, for my viewing convenience. It's paused, and I give it a look.

On it, I see a tall, blonde, purple-eyed young man, I'd guess about 17 or 18 years old dressed in almost exclusively white, and he's just won a Duel. I lean a little closer to get a better look, to sink in the look of this guy. The old man decides that now is the time to interrupt. "This is Jack Atlas," he begins, and another monitor appears beside the first one displaying a wealth of information alongside a profile picture of him. "-a resident of the Satellite."

It's got everything on him, age, blood type, height, weight… a genuinely uncomfortable amount. It wouldn't surprise me if the old man has one of these about me lying around. I start idly flicking around in it while half-listening to him prattle on about what he used to do in the Satellite. Something something duel gangs or whatever. And then he drops the bomb on me.

"-and he's conclusively a Signer."

That gets my attention. I forget all about his personal data and focus my eyes entirely on the old man. That gets him to put back the "I know everything" smile on his face and his eyes to soften a little, like he's looking at a cat that just smelled catnip. He can tell what I want to see. He presses a button, and the first screen's displayed image changes - and what I see stumps me to my very core. Dark body, great red wings, that fiendish presence… that's Red Dragon Archfiend. I feel my heartbeat speed up as I just look at the image of the thing… it looks so real. There's no way that that isn't a Signer Dragon.

"Cool," I then say, trying to play it off as I'm not entirely interested in this. "I get it, it's cool and all but why're you telling me all this?" The old man just smirks again, and turns his head towards the walking joke. He snickers a bit himself, clearly having seen my enrapturement with the Signer Dragon and I immediately want to add the punchline to his status as a joke in my eyes. "In preparation, we need all Signers gathered here in Neo Domino. However, after deliberation the Bureau have deemed that… forcefully bringing them here would be counterproductive. To that regard we were initially at wit's end, but the Director proposed a method,"

"That being sending you," the old man then finished the joke's sentence. "-to convince him to come to Neo Domino. I believe you could talk with him much more on an even level than either of us."

I start to digest the information I've just been given. On one hand, I wouldn't mind telling the old man and his pet joke to buzz off and go do it themselves. On the other… a trip to the Satellite to convince a Signer to come to Neo Domino. Could be a lot of fun. Could totally suck. Sounds to me like a bit of a gamble. Looking down at the dossier of this 'Jack Atlas' again and re-reading his profile, snapping up the big juicy details, I'm already starting to get a picture of him. Not to mention, that Red Dragon Archfiend… Interesting…

"Give me everything you have on him," I say to confirm their request. The old man starts smiling. Not the usual all-knowing kind, but the "extremely satisfied" kind.

"Splendid."

It really makes me shudder, to be honest.

_**Chapter 1: Smells Like Teenage Spirit - END**_

* * *

**Author's Note: **First off, I hope that Chapter 1 was worth the wait. I did have this chapter ready about four days ago, but I decided that it needed a bit of extra time in the oven. **_Fortunate Son_** is still in the early stages of posting, it's only just gotten started and it needs to find its groove before I can start seriously pumping out chapters at maximum speed. But in my eyes, quality will always be more important than quantity, and you can bet your ass that I'd rather die than release a half-assed chapter.

Second, I'd like to say a quick thanks to _**Time Thief**_, the first reviewer of _**Fortunate Son**_. Someone like you having the guts to drop some decent critique on a story that's only just started is much appreciated. This chapter would've likely taken twice as long to write if you hadn't thrown in a review. I hope that this is more of what you liked from last time. The characterization of Jay Goodwin is the primary concern when writing directly from his viewpoint, and continuing to succeed at that is my primary goal going forwards.

Third, and this is just so that it's out there, if you leave a review on _**Fortunate Son**_, I intend to take the time to respond to _each and every one of them_. Actual reviews, not people just writing "great chapter m8" and adding no actual critique or even just saying what was good about the chapter so I know that it's liked and that I should keep that going are a bit of a rarity in this fandom, I find. So I intend to at the very least show my appreciation for every single person who's willing to support this story by offering their criticism and advice, because I feel obligated to. It wouldn't sit with me right otherwise.

* * *

That will be all the information I have to share for now. I hope you have a fantastic day going forward, and I'll see you in a few weeks' time in Chapter 2.


	3. Chapter 2: Riders on the Storm

_**Chapter 2: Riders on the Storm**_

The weather is fucking horrible when I see the car drive up through my window. It's raining like the sky is being wrung the hell out for every single drop of water they've got. It's a relentless tapping sound that happens over and over and over, and I can hear the distant rumbling of thunder far away in the distance, only shortly illuminating the dark blue overcast sky for a few seconds before vanishing as quickly as it came.

It'll be a minute or two before Aya comes up and tells me that it's here and I am to go down and be driven off, so I decide to spend a little more time looking things over. I've got a small dark brown waterproof backpack filled up with imported beef jerky products, a couple knives, a few water bottles and my Disk and cards, the cards themselves kept safe in their own card holder. I don't know for how long I'm staying in the Satellite; this Atlas guy could be a problem to get to see Iliaster's side of things - and Security should preferably not be too aware of my presence. I am to be a ghost, at least records-wise. Last thing we want is some nosy ground-level Security officer putting his nose where it doesn't belong.

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. I look down and see my hand… shaking, just a little. I quickly realize that I'm starting to feel excited at the prospect of something like this. Finally, something _interesting_ to do, and it's gotten me all giddy.

It's way more interesting than reading books, that's for sure.

* * *

I'm driven through the faintly-illuminated Neo Domino quickly towards the coast, where a helicopter will take me to the Satellite. I'll be given means of communication, and _allowed_ to return once Jack Atlas is confirmed to be in Neo Domino. Sink or swim, huh? Never pegged the old man for someone willing to abandon something so readily if things don't go his way. He's been keeping me around despite all of my unruly tendencies, so why is he this willing to just throw me to the wolves now? It doesn't make any sense.

I've thrown on a dark green parka, and fucking well, as it's still raining like hell out there. On the plus side, this weather should be excellent cover for my travel over to the Satellite as long as I'm not set down in the middle of where people live. My imaginary friend hasn't shown up at all today, so I'm half expecting him to pop in again out of nowhere and say some smartass comment towards me, to try and get under my skin as he usually does.

The car stops at Neo Domino's port harbor, entirely empty save for unoccupied cranes and just as unoccupied ships. I flip over my parka's cover to shield my head from the rain, I pull the straps of my backpack over my shoulders and step out of the car's backseat before anyone can come and open the door for me - and I immediately notice that about two feet in front of me is the old man with an umbrella in hand. Was he going to open the door for me? If that's his idea of trying to play nice, he can go shove his own metal prosthetic up his own ass.

"Old man," I say to acknowledge his presence, and to prompt him to say whatever the hell he wants to say. Just get it over with so I can head to the Satellite already, I don't feel like sticking around here more than I absolutely have to. I notice him grimace just a little, but I ignore it. I'm not here to give a shit about what he feels, I'm here to get something done. The old man moves the umbrella just a little bit towards me, but I can still feel the rain hitting my shoulders.

"Take this," he says, and hands me what looks like a simple walkie-talkie in a yellow plastic casing. However, a closer look makes it clear that it looks a lot more like a phone than anything else, a very archaic-looking one as well. "The number is 01050397. When you call it, say the codeword 'Archon'. That will patch you in. You will give a report every day before sunset."

"Gotcha," I say, paying close attention. "Anything else?"

The old man smiles. "I'm very proud of you right now, son."

I grimace. "Save it for when I'm actually done, old man."

Whatever kind of conversation that could pass as gets interrupted when the walking joke himself comes walking towards us, holding an umbrella of his own. He's so short, he's barely half my height and compared to the old man he looks more like a dog with makeup on than a human person. "Is he ready, Director? The conditions will change soon, it would serve us well to get your son to Satellite soon."

And like a dog, I'm debating whether to laugh at his ridiculous look or to just punt him into the ocean. Unlike the old man, there's clearly a hint of apprehension on Yeager's voice. He doesn't entirely trust the decision to send me in after Atlas. After a few seconds' deliberation I do indeed settle on punting him, but before I can move the old man puts a hand on my shoulder. I decide to let Yeager go for now and send his ass flying later. I shoot the clown a final glare before forgetting about him. "I'll be fine," I tell him. "Give me a few days for observation, get a personal feel for what Atlas is like. I'll have him come to you no problem."

The old man actually manages to smile after I tell him that. Oddly though it's one I can't see any obvious message in. He's always been perfect at maintaining the expression he wants people to see - so it weirds me out to see that there's nothing clear in this expression. I can't tell what he wants. He's probably keeping me in the dark about something, I can tell. He's always keeping me in the dark, there's always _something_.

"Come back safely, Jay." And with that, he moves out of my way. I can see Yeager move to step in front of me to lead me to the helicopter but I speed up and leave him behind. I don't need a babysitter anymore, asshole. I'm a grown-ass punk now. For emphasis, I lift my foot a bit aggressively from a puddle of water so it splashes backwards onto the clown. I don't look back to see my handiwork, but I hope it ruins his dumb-ass makeup. Hope that makes what I think of him clear.

I hop into the back of the helicopter and close the door behind me, and it's being piloted by two men, both wearing sunglasses. Bureau officers, the old man's eyes and ears. One of them asks me to put on my harness, I flip him a finger for his trouble. "Get us the fuck up," I tell him. "I'm not here for a sightseeing tour." The man who told me to put it on sighs and I begin to hear the helicopter's engines start up. I glance to my right to get one last look at the old man, and there he is. Still standing there under his umbrella, looking at me. Next to him is his pet joke, and I smile when I see him being utterly drenched and giving me one hell of a death-glare.

I feel the helicopter lift itself into the air, and I keep looking back down at the pier. A flash of lightning happens, and I swear I can see him standing right next to the old man. I can see his red hair all the way from up here. He's too far away for me to see his expression or anything similar to that, but I can feel him staring at me. He's not doing or saying anything. I lean into the window to get a better look at him, and for a moment I swear I can see the old man look right at my very own imaginary friend as if he can see him. I thump my empty hand against the window, but in a second flash of lightning he's gone again. A pit begins to form in my stomach as the helicopter begins crossing the ocean, heading towards the Satellite. I feel like there's a massive lump in my throat and I find myself panting. _Am I having a panic attack? _I feel myself heating up, my hands clench and I unconsciously grit my teeth.

I feel like I'm heading into the abyss, and it damn sure looks like it too. The factories dotting the Satellite belch smoke into the air, and when it mixes with the dark clouds it looks like the entire place is covered in a thick, black smog. Fitting, when it serves as the old man's preferred dumping ground for undesirables and criminals. It really looks like the place where hope goes to just die, surrounded by gangs, rampant poverty and starvation. And I'm headed there to chase a prophecy at the behest of my adoptive father who's part of an ancient conspiracy.

Fuck me, and I'm having a panic attack while I'm at it as well. What the hell did I do to have a life this fucking nonsensical?

* * *

I'm set down in what might have been a part of an old factory before the natural disaster that ripped the Satellite off the mainland to float out on the sea on the coast all to itself years back, but it clearly got ripped in half by the disaster, and so there's just an old factory floor that's long-since been emptied of anything of value by looters. There are only piles of gravel left along with the husks of what looks like… cars, I think. Stripped of anything, there's only really just rusted bodyworks left, and even then, people have made off with several of them judging by the scratch marks in the floor.

Seems to be empty, though. Good for me, an empty place to sleep sounds like an excellent plan. I go snooping around for something like a room I can use, and my eyes settle on what looks like a storage room. Of course, said storage room is entirely empty of anything valuable, there's not even a door, but it's a room and I think I can improvise a door. I pull my things out of my bag and then bring the empty bag over to the gravel piles, and I begin to punch the bag to give it some serious creases. I then follow this up by dirtying my parka, military-green shirt and jeans as well, and I give the parka and jeans some tears as well while I'm at it.

I need to look inconspicuous here in Satellite, and having clean clothes is an easy way to stand out in a place like this. After my 'camouflage session' is over, I head back to the storage room and pull out some jerky to chew on. While I'm eating, I pull out the phone I've been given and dial in the number - 01050397. It dials for about twenty or so seconds, but finally I get through. Nobody says anything in the background, and then oh right. The codeword. "Archon," I spit out, and a dial tone greets me. And then the last voice I expected to pick up my call picks up.

"Report, Jay."

The old man gave me a direct line to himself.

I sit there for a solid ten seconds, stumped. I… don't know how to feel about this. I really don't. Then I take a bite and start chewing, and to get it over with. "I'm in Satellite," I begin. "I'm staying in an old fucking factory, gonna go look for Atlas tomorrow. Everything looks empty, so I'm fine."

The old man doesn't answer. I sigh. "I haven't been seen. Breathe." I hear him sigh in response on the other end. "Understood. Keep me informed." A simple 'click' ends that call. I sneer a little at his abrupt end to the call and just sort of half-throw it to my side that feels more like it just falls out of my hands and slides across the ground. I decide on just waiting out the rain and then staying on the move for the rest of the time I'm here.

I close my eyes for one fucking second and I realize I've been asleep for hours. A look at my wristwatch tells me that I've slept through the entire night. I immediately scramble to my feet and look through my things, desperately trying to see if anything's been stolen. A full minute later tells me that no, nothing's been stolen. A look outside though tells me that I'm not alone. There are a few kids out there playing with an old ball, messing around on the empty factory floor. I see one kid kick the ball a little too hard to one side and it gets stuck in one of the old car frames and he has to pull it out.

I've only ever played soccer… once, I think. I was asked to join back in P.E back in Duel Academy for a match. I think I was 10 or 11. I remember kicking the ball into a girl's face so hard she lost a tooth. One of the tiny ones though, the ones that are meant to fall out. I never did get invited for a match again though. I'd just go for a run instead, to clear my head. Running was nice, helped me clear my head and think a little for myself. When I was running, I could ignore all the dumb bullshit the teachers were spouting at me, all the rumors people said about me. Not that I gave a shit, but it was nice to just get away from it nonetheless.

Of course, I could never really get away from him. He's been around for as long as I can remember - the first time I remember seeing him… God, it feels like it's been ages. I can't have been any older than 7, though I'm sure he's been around long before then. There's that familiar pressure in my left arm, and I've had that always. He must have been there since the day I came screaming out of the womb from whoever the hell my mom was, out to see whoever my dad was. I still have no idea how I ended up as the adoptive son of Rex, the earliest thing I can remember is drinking from a bottle held by Aya. I burped in her face and she spanked me. Good times, huh.

And then I notice that I've been staring at those kids while having my little trip down Memory Lane. And they're now staring at me. And I just woke up from being asleep for hours, and coupled with how I usually look…

The moment I move, the kids scream and run away from me like they just saw some freak, or maybe they just got spooked by an angry-looking older kid staring at them. Same difference, doesn't change shit. I dismiss the thought of them and gather up my things. Time to go find Jack Atlas. I bid my overnight stay a fond farewell by kicking one of the old car husks so hard it falls off the few bricks it was standing on and falls to the ground with a large bang and set off to find me a Signer.

I have to say, whatever I gleaned from conversations and news articles about what a shitshow life is in the Satellite did not do it justice. Man, you are _fucked_ if you grow up here. Might as well come out of the womb with shackles already on and your own Marker while you're at it, because everything is just fucked here. Just being here makes me want to take a shower for a good hour or so to get the smog and general depression washed off of my skin. And the old man is actively perpetuating this state of affairs. Fucking hell…

It's a good metaphorical bucket of ice water to throw in my face, to be honest. It's one thing to look at Neo Domino to see the kind of society the old man and the elite are running, but seeing the ass end of it all, the dirty shoe rather than the beautiful hat is a totally different beast than being in the polished utopia. The more I see, the more justified I feel in making the scene I did that one time the old man made the mistake of trying to bring me to one of those gatherings the Neo Domino elite love to hold. I mean, it's not my mistake that those troglodytes have no appreciation for the fine arts of the anarchist's cookbook. What actually happened you're gonna have to ask the old man himself about, but I can tell you that it was fucking hilarious. Senator Izayoi was _so angry_, it was hysterical!

I wonder how the Satellites would react if I told them that story. Would they celebrate my act as a means of telling The Man to go fuck himself, or would they mob me for being the adopted son of the the local Man himself? Probably the latter, to be honest. They're giving me weird stares already, probably not a good idea to push my luck. So, I decide to keep going, to head deeper into the Satellite to get away from the larger crowds - and soon enough, I find myself in an empty quarter. From what I read; Atlas didn't think much of most Satellite residents - he probably preferred solitude over socialization. So, I began my search - or rather, I was about to begin my search, but I was rudely interrupted.

By someone on a _D-Wheel_, of all things. One moment I'm there, walking along the empty streets and minding my own business when suddenly someone on a white D-Wheel comes roaring past me, couldn't have been going slower than 150 kp/h at least, and zooms around the corner ahead.

"What the fuck-" I manage to let slip out. The sheer damn _speed_ of that thing took my breath away from me for a second - and then I set off. If nothing else, that thing is worth investigating. I turn around the corner and I just manage to see that D-Wheel take off again from a standstill, as a group of three people see the rider off. I walk closer to them, intending on asking them questions - but a voice stops me.

"Amazing, isn't it?" The voice is young, but it's very clearly a boyish voice. I turn around and come face-to-face with a young red-head twerp wearing baggy, dirty clothes. "He built it himself, from spare parts. And here he is, riding through Satellite." I want to say something snarky in return, but I can't really muster it. He's right, whoever made that thing is a genuine genius. From spare parts, he put together an entire D-Wheel all on his own… and it works. "Yeah," I admit, and the kid lights up with a smile.

"Yusei's amazing. He's my hero," the kid then says. "I'm Rally. Who're you?" He holds his hand out, but has to reach up towards me. God, he's a kid. A real, hopeful kid. I tenatively put his tiny, calloused hand in mine and give it a slight squeeze. "Jay. Got no family name." Rally shakes my hand and nods his head in appreciation. "That's okay. Lots of people here don't have family names." He's about to say something more, but the hum of a D-Wheel's engine comes in the distance, and the three others from down the street come running. They gather alongside me and Rally on the street corner as the D-Wheel comes storming towards us.

This 'Yusei', the D-Wheel's rider moves his arms and in a flash of light, a huge dragon materializes above him. It's a pure white with blue pads and its wings spread a shower of silver sparkles across the sky as it flies by, and the other four cry out in amazement as the dragon shrieks. Me, I have to say I'm mesmerized. It's so real, I could almost reach out and touch it. There's something to it that nothing else has, a feeling of just being there, like it's genuinely living and breathing instead of being just a hologram.

"That's Yusei's Stardust Dragon," Rally explains. "Isn't it amazing?" Rally's words make my eyes involuntarily widen. I just saw the second Signer Dragon. I should have realized immediately, it's so real. Stardust Dragon vanishes as Yusei pulls it off his Duel Disk and the D-Wheel turns around to head back towards us. It stops by the corner and Rally, along with the three others run over to congratulate its rider and express their amazement. The rider pulls off his helmet and my god his hair looks like a crab. What the actual hell.

But a D-Wheel, huh? Interesting. As I stand there, watching over the situation another person walks towards Yusei and the others, and he is huge… and blond. It takes me a second, and then it clicks. Jack Atlas is only a few meters away from me. I keep standing there, and I watch Atlas closely. He and Yusei are supposed to be friends, right? Then why is he so stiff, like he's around a hated rival? The two of them go way back according to the dossier I got, so what gives?

I'm brought out of my train of thought when another voice, this one much more grown and mature than Rally's calls out. I turn my head and I see Yusei, looking at me. He's got Stardust Dragon, so he's got to be a Signer as well. I involuntarily swallow and walk over to the group. The group parts, and Yusei gets off the D-Wheel to greet me. "Hello. I'm Yusei. Sorry for scaring you earlier."

Ah, right. He's the guy who zoomed past me just now. "It's fine," I say, and I put on a simple smile to try and appear non-threatening. "I'm Jay. I'm passing through,"

"Passing through?" One of the other members of the group, a rather wide and short guy with very cropped hair repeats in confusion, and I immediately turn my head towards him to clarify. "Running away from home," I say. "My old man's an asshole." Best thing about that explanation is that I'm not lying - the best lies are lies of omission. Neglect a few details and you're set.

The group's expressions grow somber in response to my plight. Yusei is the first one to speak up. "Stay with us. We've got room."

"Oh, no," I reply. "I wouldn't want to impose-"

"It's no problem!" Rally then speaks up. "Ever since Jack moved out, we've got extra space! There's plenty room for you!"

My eyes widen. Internally, I thank whoever's up there in the sky for my luck. Everything has just fallen into place for me. This is perfect. Already a plan is formulating in my head. I glance towards Jack, who's standing a bit away from the group itself. I can see his eyes narrow at me. I let my glee show as a big, wide smile. "Okay then, if I'm not imposing. Thank you so much," I say, trying my best to sound as genuine as possible.

Rally and the three others whose names I don't know welcome me 'to the family', as it were, and I happily thank them for it.

Time to be my adoptive father's son and manipulate the shit out of these guys.

_**Chapter 2: Riders on the Storm - END**_

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone, it's me, Doccy - back with another chapter for_** Fortunate Son**_, and this one? Whoo, it was a tough one to write, I have to say. Getting this to flow right while also balancing my exam preparations has been a bit of a challenge, but now Chapter 2 is done and I hope it was worth the over two-week wait.

I also would like to once again extend my thanks to _**Time Thief**_ for her valuable feedback for my writing, but even more I would like to give a massive thank-you to _**overthemoonday**_, who melted my heart with some genuine criticism and sincere suggestions for _**Fortunate Son**_ going forward that I have taken to account. Without her, this chapter would have ended up being a complete mess.

I'd also like to thank the six followers of _**Fortunate Son**_ so far - I hope that once you've read this, you feel satisified with what I provided for you and yet are also hungry for more. That's the charm of stories like these on FFNet, there's a certain allure to see a story progress and evolve over time directly rather than just the whole thing in one go - isn't there?

* * *

That's all from me this time. I hope it was to your liking, and I hope to see you again for Chapter 3, next time. Until then, have a good one.


	4. Chapter 3: Not Your Kind Of People

_**Chapter 3: Not Your Kind Of People**_

It's almost frightening how easy I find it to lie to their faces. Jack takes one look at me and walks off, and I turn towards Yusei. "What's eating him?" I say, just letting my own confusion guide me. I have an inkling of why, but otherwise I don't know. And as I told you before, the best lies are lies of omission, the ones where you don't actually lie. Being economical with the truth is just as effective.

"Don't mind him," one of Yusei's friends tells me, the short and wide one. "Jack's not exactly the friendliest person around." I turn towards him and open my mouth in an 'oh' expression. "I see," I say, choosing my words carefully. I recall what read from the dossier the old man was so kind as to supply me with, and it fits… to a degree. Really, looking at him, you'd think he was jealous of Yusei.

...hold on a minute.

I turn towards Yusei, and I wait a second or two. "Was he always like that?" I ask after my short bit of deliberation, and Yusei himself takes a second to answer. "No," he says, but he says it in a weird tone that makes me half think that he's lying. I'm not sure what to think, but Rally gives me the piece of the puzzle I'm missing.

"He and Yusei had a duel earlier today," he says. "Jack won. He's been like that all day now." And just like that, I think I might have an idea of what's eating at him. "Yeah," another of Yusei's friends says, one with blue hair and a small pair of glasses. "He really gave Yusei a dressing-down after that one."

"Jack's become a hothead over the years," the third one - wearing a piece of cloth over his head says. "He was always a confident one, but it's something else these days."

"Really?" I say, and I have to bite down the urge to utter my thoughts out loud. "That's weird. Anything happen to him?" Yusei looks like he wants to answer my question, but he doesn't say anything.

"Don't worry too much about him," the one with the cropped hair tells me. "I'm Taka. That's Blitz," he says, pointing at the second one who walks rather hunched over and wears a pair of small glasses, who gives a light "yo" as a formal greeting. "-and that's Nerve," he says, pointing at the guy with the bandana who waves a little to acknowledge himself.

"Hey," I say with a smile. "I'm Jay, as you know. Thanks for letting me stay for a bit with you guys."

"Again, it's no problem!" Rally says, almost shouting. Kid's got a lot of energy that he isn't spending, but his mood is practically infectious. I barely even have to try to seem happy, he's doing the work for me.

Yusei and his friends lead me deeper into the Satellite, down into what must have once been a train station. There, hidden by toppled-over support pillars underneath a cracked ceiling, made by hanging up a variety of blankets and carpets there's what could be a home. Rally runs ahead and pulls away one and directs me to an empty 'room' with a cobbled-together sleeping arrangement.

I stand there, stumped for a second. I'd forgotten where I was for a moment, and comparing this to what I have back in the City, in the old man's mansion… fuck, I really have just been taking that for granted. Rally notices me not saying anything, and I quickly have to say something before I start seeming suspicious.

"Sorry," I utter to break the silence. "I guess it hasn't sunk in yet, being a runaway."

"It's okay," Rally says, looking at me with those big, bright eyes of his. I find it hard to look directly into them and I don't know why? He's just some kid that I'm lying to until I can get to Atlas. So why is his stare that affecting?

I take my backpack off and place it beside the almost paper-thin mattress, and I open it up. I've forgotten that Rally is still there, because when my Duel Disk is visible I hear him gasp in awe. "Is that-" he says, and I realize my mistake. Shit. Alright, no point in hiding it. Better play along. Better to feign ignorance than be found out.

"What?" I say, acting like it's nothing special. "It's just my Duel Disk. Took it with."

"You have a City Duel Disk?!" He says in surprise and awe, and I hear the others approach. "Yeah, I came here from the City. Why, is that a problem?"

"What's it like?!" Rally immediately says, practically yelling, his eyes big, wide and full of curiosity. By now, Blitz, Taka and Nerve have gathered around Rally as well. If they aren't caught up by Rally's excitement, they're at least worried about housing a City-dweller. Yusei isn't there, though. Why isn't he?

My first instinct is to start a profanity-laden rant about why I hate the City. About how it's just a golden cage where you're really slaving away for the sake of the elite, for my old man. That you're watched over by a veritable army of Security officers, all of whom are just waiting for an opportunity to throw you in the slammer if they don't like the look of you.

That it's no different than Satellite, the only difference is that instead of a Marker you just have a job.

But I can't say that. Not to Rally. Not when he's looking at me like that.

So instead I sit down and pull some jerky out of my bag and hand it to Rally. He looks at the bag with wonder, and starts looking for a way to open it. With an involuntary smile I show him how to open it and as he starts nibbling down on it, I figure out where to begin.

"...have you ever looked at the City during nighttime?"

Rally nods.

"You should see what it's like. All these beautiful lights everywhere, like fireflies. They fly around the tallest towers…"

I keep going for a few hours, and Rally listens to every word I have to say. I even catch Yusei outside, bent over his D-Wheel. But he's listening, I know he is. He's pretending not to, but I know he is.

He's an interesting one, alright.

* * *

During my talk about the City, the subject inevitably comes back to my Duel Disk and Dueling. I show off my Deck a little, show a few monsters and Tuners here and there and one of my favorite Synchro Monsters, the Level 6 Dark-Attribute C_elestial Wolf Lord, Blue Sirius_. A solid 2400 ATK plus an effect that can turn a bad situation around if it's destroyed.

"Maaan, that thing is fierce," Taka complains. "You really do have all the good cards across the pond. We just have to make do with improvised strategies."

"True, but that doesn't mean we're doomed card-wise," Nerve then speaks up. "You've seen Yusei and Jack, they don't need City cards to pull off combos. It all depends on knowing how to use them," he says with a slightly haughty tone, causing Taka to give him an annoyed glare.

"He has a point, you know," Blitz says, speaking up. "Even Rally makes do, and all he has are old Union monsters."

"I still don't get why they even made those," Nerve groans. "Why waste a Normal Summon on a small boost when you can just summon another strong monster?"

"You sound like my classmates," I reply, and Nerve's earlier haughtiness drains from him. I've caught him in a moment of hypocrisy, and he knows it. I could twist the knife, emphasize that he and a lot of people in the City aren't any different, but I need to keep my cover. Best to just let it go.

"No, Nerve is right," Rally then speaks up whilst munching on jerky. "But you're forgetting one thing."

"Which is?" Nerve says, his earlier slightly haughty tone back again. Rally just smiles. "A Union monster is also a one-use protection against destruction."

"What?" Nerve goes, but then his face twists in realization. "Right, of course! Turbo Cannon has no Attack or Defense, so you use Union monsters to keep it protected!" Rally nods in affirmation.

"I think I know that card, Turbo Cannon," I say. "It destroys a monster once per turn and deals its Attack as damage to its controller, right?"

"Yup," Rally confirms. "It's a strong effect, but it's only a Level 3 Synchro and it has no Attack or Defense to speak of. So Yusei suggested I use the Union monsters I found to help."

"That Yusei," Taka says. "He's one hell of a duelist. I don't doubt that he'll trample them over in the City."

That gets me to listen. He wants to cross the pond, all the way over to Neo Domino? But… that's impossible, is what I immediately think. There's no way he can do that, there's no way _anyone_ can do that. Nobody is getting across, that's a fact. I should know, I'm the son of the guy put in charge to make sure that nobody ever will get across.

But then I remember that my job here is to get Jack Atlas, a citizen of the Satellite to go to the City.

So how is he intending on getting across? I have to know, now. But I'm not gonna ask. Not now, at least. I must already be suspicious thanks to that slip-up earlier. I can't risk ruining everything - I don't feel like being stuck here.

"What do they duel like?" Blitz then says, pulling me out of my earlier reverie of thought. "Over in the City, I mean."

"I can't imagine it's much different," I reply. "Different cards can only do so much, you know? Everyone's got their own way to duel, and all the people I've Dueled were Academia students around my age. Everyone there runs their own thing, something they've cobbled together themselves."

"Really?" Blitz says. "I would've thought they would all be using structure decks."

"At the lower grades, sure," I reply. "But when you get older they want to see what you can do with your own understanding of the craft. Any idiot can use a premade deck and win with it. Besides," I reply, fishing out one of my own cards to show it off. I pull out one of my more tactical monsters, the Level 7 Synchro Monster _Dark Highlander_.

"Over-reliance on a certain way to win can cripple you," I say, showing off the card. "Too many people rely on Equip Spells and Synchro Monsters. So having something to deal with both," I say, letting its effect sink in. "-that's a real way to win."

Once a turn, pull off any and all Equip Cards on a Monster and deal the opponent 400 damage for each one. And as if that wasn't enough, as long as Dark Highlander is on the field then nobody can Synchro Summon. I'm already packing Discord as a weapon in that regard, but there's nothing like pulling Dark Highlander out, using its effect to peel off all the good parts on an enemy monster and then punch a big hole in their defenses with its gigantic 2800 Attack Points.

"Those are the kinds of cards they have over in the City, huh?" Taka says, eyeing Dark Highlander with envious eyes. Suddenly I'm struck by a slight feeling, a sting - every card I have was bought for me. Sure, I put the deck together myself but every card here cost money.

My old man's money. It makes me look twice at Dark Highlander. It makes me wonder how much it cost. And how long it would take these guys to earn that kind of money. It makes me feel guilty and I hate it. I'm just working with the cards I was given, how the hell was I supposed to know how bad things were here in the Satellite? I've never been here before.

Even now I feel the old man's presence bearing down on me. And here I thought that getting to do my own thing for a few days would help. I shouldn't have been that naive. I'm carrying a direct damn comm-line to him in my pocket and I have to check in with him every day. It's more of a leash than a rope, wrapped tight around my neck.

And if I fuck up, he's just gonna tighten it even more until I learn my lesson, like a good dog. Just the thought of it makes me antsy, makes me wound-up and angry. I want to punch something. I want to punch _someone_.

I let out a shaky sigh, and everyone's eyes turn to me. "Are you okay?" Rally says with a concerned voice, looking at me with those big eyes of his. I nearly snap at him, but I manage to stop myself. I take a deep breath to try and shake off the nervousness and force a slight smile. "I'm fine, Rally. Just a bit of stress, nothing more."

That's the first lie I ever regret saying.

* * *

It's late at night. I haven't called the old man yet, and it's as dark as can be. For once the smog has lightened up and the moonlight filters down through cracks in the ceiling down on us as we lay there, sleeping.

As I quietly sneak out of the rooms, making sure not to alert Rally, Blitz, Taka or Nerve as I go I'm stopped by the soft whine of an engine. The engine of Yusei's D-Wheel.

I turn my head to the right and there he is - sans jacket, but still awake and if he was tired then he sure didn't fucking show it. He's lit up just a little by the moonlight, I can just about make out his slightly tan skin and distinctive haircut.

And he hasn't noticed me yet. He's fully engrossed into his work, into… whatever he's doing. I'm no mechanic. I've got no idea how the hell a D-Wheel works. All I know about Riding Duels is that one time I saw the champion, Himuro I think his name was, duel some other loser on TV.

I could just sneak around him. He wouldn't notice me. He's hyper-focused.

...but I'm intrigued. If he's really intending on getting to the City, I want to know why. Or rather, I want to know _how_. It might come in handy to convince Atlas.

"Hey," I say, announcing my presence to Yusei. He doesn't turn around, but I see him pause for a second. He's noticed me now alright. "Sorry for waking you up," Yusei says. What a real nice guy he is.

"You didn't, I needed fresh air." Yusei hmphs in affirmation, and returns to his work. He's that kind of person, huh. Not exactly one to spill the beans yourself, are you, Fudo? You'd rather someone open the can first. Well, that I can do.

"Why are you building a D-Wheel, anyways?" I say, and I need to choose my words carefully now. I need to provoke a strong enough reaction in him to get him to talk, but if I come off too arrogant I'll end up insulting him. Better go with a more neutral angle to be sure.

"There's not many roads here in Satellite to ride on," I say. "They're all over the pond."

"Then I'll just have to ride on them," Yusei replies. Alright, time to sink my teeth in.

"How? There's no way across. And even if there was, the moment you're seen the Bureau will swarm all over you. Then you get thrown back here sans D-Wheel and cards but with a Marker in exchange."

"You're not a very hopeful person, are you, Jay?"

I raise my hands in mock-surrender. "You got me there. The City's just as much a cage as the Satellite is. Only difference is what your chains look like. Besides, as I said, there's no way across. The Bureau combs every single ship going to and from the Satellite."

"The garbage channel. It's a direct path."

I stand there, staring at Yusei like he's just said that he was actually born in the Tops. "That's suicidal. That channel is miles long, and only stays open for three minutes. There's no way you can make it across that fast."

"Yes there is," and Yusei emphasizes his point by revving the engine of the milky-white D-Wheel.

On one hand, I think he's crazy. Completely fucking crazy, or that the guy has a death wish.

On the other, I think I just had an idea. A diabolical one, one I'm almost ashamed for having thought up.

"You're crazy," I say and Yusei just smiles at me in a "we'll see" kind of way. "I'm gonna go out for some fresh air. Be back in five."

And with that, I ascend back up onto the Satellite surface and pull out my satellite phone. I type in the number, say the code phrase and after a few minutes, the old man finally picks up.

* * *

"You're late."

"Can you keep the garbage chute to Satellite open on command?"

"Excuse me?"

"The garbage tunnel the City uses to dump its trash to the Satellite. Can you hold it open manually?"

"I'm Director of the Bureau. Of course I can. Why do you ask?"

"Because I think I know how we can get you two Signers with one move."

"...I'm listening."

_**Chapter 3: Not Your Kind Of People - END**_

* * *

**Author's Note:** First off I would like to apologise for the month-long wait for this chapter. Like an earlier case, this one ended up being quite difficult to write and so I ended up deciding to split this chapter in two, because it was simply too much for just one chapter. I hope that this results in a much more coherent chapter structure where not too much happens every chapter so it becomes overwhelming.

Second, allow me to once again give a massive shout-out to my good friend _**EibonVirgo**_, whose kind comments got me out of my earlier rut and got this chapter finally finished. Her story **To Be Human** is an excellent read that I _highly_ reccommend you check out, there's nobody I know who can write like her.

* * *

Apart from that, I won't bloat this chapter with any more unneccessary filler from my side. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'll see you in Chapter 4. Take care.


	5. Chapter 4: Court of the Crimson King

_**Chapter 4: In the Court of the Crimson King**_

The next day I bid Yusei and his friends a kind farewell, as I explain that I'm headed deeper into the Satellite. As nice as they all are, I need to go into hiding. With a hesitant heart, Yusei tells me about the B.A.D, the lawless center of the Satellite, the ruined hellhole surrounding the big crater and how not even Security have the balls to go in there.

Rally tries to get me to stay, and I honestly almost change my mind because of him. But I have a mission from the old man, and I'm not in with a choice. At least, that's what I tell myself as I hear Rally crying as I leave. Of course, I'm not heading deeper into the Satellite. At least, not that deep. Deeper in the old man was so kind to provide me information on where Atlas is staying nowadays, in an old theatre.

Just as I figured he would. The dossier did say he had a theatrical bent, a penchant for playing himself up to intimidate opponents, to make himself seem larger than life. My theory is that he's not doing that just to intimidate other people. I think he's doing it for his own sake more than anything else - and it's why he went off on Yusei after defeating him.

He knows that Yusei will be the one to reach the City and take the spotlight that Atlas feels belongs to him.

And I know exactly how to get Atlas to dance to my tune.

I can't serve it up to him on a silver platter, though. He's too proud a guy for that. No, I've got to show it to him and then dare him to rip it out of my hands so he can take it for himself. I've got to dangle this dead animal from the top of the cage and shake it until the lion himself jumps up and rips it to shreds with his bare hands.

Then he'll dance to my tune all I want.

It takes me a good hour or two to find the theatre, but I've had no issues with being seen. Jack must make it clear who this territory belongs to, so they're all running scared of the tall blonde with the badass dragon card. That Red Dragon Archfiend of his… I want to see it in person. If it really is a Signer Dragon, I should be able to tell when I see it. Yusei's Stardust Dragon had that air of being really there - and Atlas's dragon should be exactly the same.

The hard part will be to coax him off his throne, to catch his interest. If I can't draw him in, he'll never bite. So there I am, outside the entrance of the old theatre and it feels like my heart is in my throat. I swallow a lump of air and try to mentally steel myself as I step inside.

The first thing that strikes me is how little light there is inside this old theatre. It's all covered in shadow, with only a few beams of light coming in from cracks in the ceiling. At first glance, it looks completely abandoned. Hell, if I didn't know that Atlas stayed here I would have pissed off after one quick look. But I take another step inside, because I have something to do and I really don't want to stay in Satellite for any longer than I really have to. This place gives me the creeps, not to mention how quiet He has been. He hasn't shown up once since I boarded the helicopter, what's up with that?

After a few moments my eyes start to adjust and now I notice a slight bit of yellow in the shadow. Right after that I see some flowing white and there he is, a tall blonde man in a white coat that looks like a human mountain, complete with bright peak as well. His eyes are closed, but I can tell that he's looking right at me. He knows I'm here.

So I decide to get his attention first. "Jack Atlas. 18 years old, Satellite-born citizen. Known member of the now-defunct Duel Gang _Team Satisfaction_ alongside Yusei Fudo, Crow Hogan and the… deceased Kyosuke Kiryu." As I mentioned Kiryu, I see him flinch just a little. I've found a pressure point. Something to get him to open up.

"You've come here from the City," Jack says. He's not saying it as a reply, but as a statement. He's an intelligent guy, and he saw through my facade when I first showed up. If it was that clear to him, then did Yusei see through it as well? Was he just hiding it when I spoke to him, or is he unaware? It's something that starts picking at the back of my head now that I realize it, but one fuckup a day.

"Exactly. Originally they were going to send some guys in suits most likely, but they figured that I could talk your language better," I say, deliberately adding that last bit. I need to strike a chord with him, otherwise he'll never listen to what I have to say. Atlas huffs. "About what?"

I'm not going to answer that question, not directly. I'll make him answer it himself. "Dueling across the pond isn't that much different. Except of course over in the City, they have D-Wheels. We've even got ourselves a big-ass stadium for those Riding Duels… too bad the current "King of Riding Duels"' dueling is boring as shit."

"So you want me as King?" Atlas continues, and I can hear the slight inflection in his voice. He's trying to not show his surprise at Lady Providence throwing him a bone at last. But I know, I can hear it. He's taken the bait.

"Yup, that's what they want," I say, and my choice of words puts Atlas on edge - he tenses up a little. I said _they_, not _we_. On one hand to keep him on the back foot, on the other…

Well, I might have intentions of my own here. A little.

"Me, personally? I'm not so sure. How could someone from _Satellite_ become the King of Riding Duels? Some poor son of a bitch scraped off the pavement with a cobbled-together deck-"

Right in the middle of my goddamn sentence, Atlas gets up from his throne and steps down in front of me; Duel Disk in hand. The nerve of this guy.

"What are your terms?"

Now; now I'm smiling as I open up my bag and pull out my own Duel Disk and Deck. "You win, I get you your ticket to the City."

"Lose," I say, pausing to turn my Duel Disk on, the generator inside coming to life with that distinctive, high-pitched whirring that I have to admit I just love the sound of. "-and Red Dragon Archfiend? He comes with me to the City instead of you."

I have to give him one thing, he doesn't flinch when I demand he ante up his Signer Dragon. He stands there for a full ten seconds, his hand on his Deck as he deliberates. I don't move, not a muscle as it feels like the air has turned rock-hard.

I feel a drop of sweat go down the side of my face as he slides his cards into place. "Fine. I accept your terms!"

"Aces," I reply. "How about we see if you're what they say you are!"

"_**DUEL!"**_

* * *

Loading Duel Format…

Format loaded.

Anime Format, 4000 Life Points.

**JAY:** 4000 LP, Hand: 5

**JACK:** 4000 LP, Hand: 5

* * *

"The aspirant takes the first turn," I say, holding an outstretched hand towards Jack. No matter how this duel goes, I need to make him work for his victory if he wants it that badly. No better way to do that than put up a strong defense. Jack nods slightly and declares the beginning of his turn.

"I Normal Summon Archfiend Interceptor in Attack Position!" Jack declares as a hunched-over, six-armed thing in football gear appears beside him, its arms outstretched and its hands open as if expecting an attack.

**Archfiend Interceptor**  
**Lv: 4**  
**ATK: 1400**

"I place one card face-down and end my turn," Jack slides one card into the Spell & Trap Zone face-down, and an oversized face-down card materializes beside him. An aggressive opening, he must be aiming to try and take control of the Duel immediately with Archfiend Interceptor's effect.

Unluckily for him, it will prove his undoing.

"My turn," I say as I pull out the first card from my Deck and it brings a smile to my face to see. Everything is already in place. "I'm sure you've beaten countless other people here in the Satellite, Atlas. I'm sure some without ever even taking any damage at all. But there's the thing, what cuts it here won't cut it over there. Allow me to demonstrate," I say as I slide my freshly drawn card into the Spell & Trap Card Zone.

"I activate the Spell Card Terraforming!"

**Terraforming**  
**Normal Spell**

"Terraforming allows me to draw any one Field Spell from my Deck to my hand," I say as a card is slid out from the middle of my Deck and I pull it out, letting the auto-shuffle do its work. "-and I subsequently activate it! Go, Chicken Race!"

**Chicken Race**  
**Field Spell**

"Chicken Race is a simple Field Spell that applies to both players in the Duel," I explain. "Each turn, the turn player can pay 1000 Life Points to activate one of three effects - to draw a card, to give the opposing player 1000 Life Points, or to destroy Chicken Race. This Duel will be about who is willing to reach into the jaws of defeat and pull out victory! I Summon Armageddon Knight in Attack Position!"

**Armageddon Knight**  
**Lv: 4**  
**ATK: 1400**

As the black-haired warrior in rusted, dirty armor with only a red piece of cloth and a pair of goggles obscuring his face appeared beside me, I could see Atlas tense up about the Field Spell I'd activated. Good, I want to see him pushed, I want to see him desperate. I want to push him to his limits.

"Armageddon Knight allows me to send one Dark-Attribute Monster from my Deck to my Graveyard when Normal Summoned," I explain as I pull the monster, 'Tuning Gum' out from the deck and slide it into my Graveyard.

"Battle Phase! Armageddon Knight attacks Archfiend Interceptor!" I declare, and immediately I can see Jack's face change ever so slightly in surprise for just a moment. "Archfiend Interceptor's Monster Effect activates! When an opponent's monster attacks, it deals 500 points of damage to the opposing player!"

The fiendish footballer gathers up a ball of orange energy and tosses it at me, but I don't flinch. Things are just as planned. Armageddon Knight continues its attack and brings its sword down onto the helmet of Archfiend Interceptor, smashing it - but the footballer uses its vestigial arms to grab onto Armageddon Knight and starts blasting it with energy. Armageddon pushes on through and cuts it in two, before being blasted apart as well, leaving the field clear of monsters.

**Jay: 4000 - 3500**

500 points lower, just perfect. "I now activate the effect of Chicken Race," I declare as a hazy purple aura surrounds me. "I draw another card by paying 1000 Life Points!"

**Jay: 3500 - 2500**

"I don't understand," Jack replies. "Why are you lowering your own Life Points so much?"

"Simple," I reply while pointing my tongue at him to be cheeky. "While Chicken Race is face-up on the field, the player with the lowest amount of Life Points _cannot take damage, period._" Jack visibly tenses up as he figures it out.

"So let's see if you've got the guts to make it in the City. Come on Jack, hit me with your best shot!" I yell as I slide Call of the Haunted and Urgent Tuning into my Spell & Trap Card Zones. I've got a plan, but it hinges on him attacking me. He's going to give in and increase my Life Points to damage me. If he does, I get a free shot at ripping his Life Points to shreds - but I'm gonna be putting my neck in the firing line if I'm wrong.

_But to hell with it, there's nothing like that thrill!_

"My turn!" Jack declares as he draws another card. Come on, Atlas. Hit me. Hit me, I dare you. You know you want to. He stands there not saying anything for a whole four seconds, before he says the magic words.

"I will activate the effect of Chicken Race to increase your Life Points!" He declares, as a purple aura surrounds him and a green aura surrounds me.

**Jack: 4000 - 3000**

**Jay: 2500 - 3500**

"Next I activate the effect of Power Giant in my hand!" Jack declares, and a wicked smile appears on my face as I realize that he's taken the bait. "By sending one Level 4 or lower Monster from my hand to the Graveyard, I can Special Summon Power Giant with its Level reduced by the Level of the monster sent! I discard the Level 3 Dark Tinker!" Jack slides the one card into his Graveyard and forth comes a monster that looks like an action figure with glowing crystals on its body.

**Power Giant**  
**Lv: 6**  
**ATK: 2200**

**Power Giant**  
**Lv: 6 - 3**

"You're wide open now! Power Giant, attack him directly!" Jack declares and the action figure golem charges towards me, fists first and landing right in front of me in a huge cloud of virtual dust. I don't flinch, I'm smiling more than I've ever smiled in years.

**Jay: 3500 - 1300**

"I Set one card face-down and end my turn!" Jack declares as another oversized card materializes in front of him. "Do what you want, but I will seize my destiny!" He says boisterously, but whatever he wanted to say next dies in his throat as he sees the expression on my face.

Because he knows that he fell for my trap. I wanted him to lower his Life Points of his own accord - all that to make it that much easier to take him to 0 while making myself safe thanks to Chicken Race's effect. He could have chosen to just destroy Chicken Race, but I knew he would be too prideful for that. And now I'm going to take his pride and make him choke on it.

"Draw!" I declare, and the card I draw is just what I need. Dark Grepher.

"I activate the effect of Dark Grepher in my hand!" I declare. "By sending one Level 5 or higher Dark-Attribute Monster from my hand," I say as I slide the Level 8 Grinder Golem into my Graveyard, "-I can Special Summon him from my hand!" And like that, a dark warrior, corrupted by darkness with the only trace of what he used to be being the white hair on his head wielding a skull-embroidered blade.

**Dark Grepher**  
**Lv: 4  
ATK: 1700**

"And now, I Normal Summon the Level 2 Tuner Monster, Night's End Sorcerer from my hand!" I declare, and Jack's face falls as he sees the young magician with a scythe appear next to the dark warrior, because he can see what's coming.

**Night's End Sorcerer**  
**Lv: 2**  
**ATK: 1300**

"And now, I Tune the Level 4 Dark Grepher with the Level 2 Night's End Sorcerer!" I say as the young magician starts spinning his scythe faster and faster until the wind itself tears him apart and he becomes two green rings of light, which both surround Dark Grepher. Their light shines through him and he becomes transparent, revealing four blue stars inside of him which align and a beam of light shines through the whole shebang.

"Synchro Summon! Come, Level 6, Celestial Wolf Lord, Blue Sirius!"

When the light fades a blue armored wolf-man wielding two claw weapons shaped in the form of wolf heads assumed a combat position next to me, letting out a loud howl towards the sky.

**Celestial Wolf Lord, Blue Sirius**  
**Lv: 6**  
**ATK: 2400**

"And if you think I'm done, then oh no motherfucker, you're in for some serious pain! I activate the Continuous Trap Card, Call of the Haunted!"

**Call of the Haunted**  
**Continuous Trap Card**

"The effect of Call of the Haunted equips it to a Monster from my Graveyard, and Special Summons it in Attack Position! Welcome back Night's End Sorcerer!" The moment the scythe-wielding young man appears, his scythe starts glowing. "His effect activates upon his successful Special Summon, banishing two cards in your Graveyard from play!"

In front of him, the spectral forms of Archfiend Interceptor and Dark Tinker appear kneeling, and in one swift swing they're decapitated bloodlessly by Night's End Sorcerer and fade away.

**Night's End Sorcerer**  
**Lv: 2  
ATK: 1300**

"Battle Phase!" I yell, and immediately point my finger at Jack's Power Giant. "Blue Sirius attacks Power Giant! Wolf Lord Pounce!" I declare as Blue Sirius leaps into the air and dives towards Power Giant. The golem attempts to defend itself by raising its fists up but Blue Sirius is clever - it lands just in front of the giant and then strikes upwards with its claw-heads, shattering its opponent with ease.

**Jack: 3000 - 2800**

"And now, Night's End Sorcerer attacks directly!" I then declare, and the young magician throws its scythe at Jack, who steels himself for the attack but cries out anyway.

**Jack: 2800 - 1500**

"Trap Card, reveal!" I then declare, and Jack's eyes narrow as he sees it. "Urgent Tuning!"

**Urgent Tuning**  
**Normal Trap Card**

"Urgent Tuning allows me to perform a Synchro Summon during the Battle Phase! And I Tune the Level 6 Celestial Wolf Lord, Blue Sirius with the Level 2 Tuner Monster Night's End Sorcerer!" Once again the young magician spins his scythe and becomes rings of light, but Blue Sirius has six stars inside of it instead of four. My fingers are practically twitching as I pull out my ace monster.

"Synchro Summon! Come, Level 8! Dark End Dragon!" I declare as from the beam of light comes a long, pointed tail, two muscular scaled arms that introduce a black-scaled figure with an enormous toothy maw on its chest. Dark End Dragon lets out a roar of malice and defiance to the world as it takes its place by my side.

**Dark End Dragon**  
**Lv: 8**  
**ATK: 2800**

"Dark End Dragon, attack Jack Atlas directly and rid him of his remaining Life Points! Dark Baptism!" I declare as Dark End Dragon reels its head back and begins gathering black light in its maw, readying a blast to end this Duel on the fourth turn.

"Monster Effect, activate!" Jack declares defiantly. "Battle Fader activates when I am attacked directly! It Special Summons itself to the field and ends the Battle Phase!"

**Battle Fader**  
**Lv: 1**  
**ATK: 0**

A thing that looks like an upside-down metronome with a bell-pendulum attached appears in front of Dark End Dragon and begins to chime its bell, causing Dark End Dragon to break off its attack just in time. Crafty son of a bitch, I'll give him that.

"In my second Main Phase I will activate Dark End Dragon's Monster Effect!" I declare as the maw on its chest opens up to reveal a long, slimy tongue inside that toothy cavern that drools in hunger. "By reducing Dark End Dragon's Attack and Defense by 500, one monster the opponent controls is sent to the Graveyard!" The tongue lashes out and wraps itself around Battle Fader and pulls it into the mouth, the sharp fangs crushing it in an instant and swallowing it.

"And lastly, I activate the effect of Chicken Race," I declare as a purple aura appears around me. "-paying 1000 Life Points to increase your Life Points by 1000!" A green aura appears around Atlas, and our Life Points become that much more separate.

**Jay: 1300 - 300**

**Jack: 1500 - 2500**

"I end my turn," I say with a smug undertone. What he does now doesn't matter. My Life Points are at 300, there's no way he can lower his Life Points that much to damage me, I've got this in the ba-

"Continuous Trap Card, Spacegate!" Jack declares as a bright light shines right in my eyes and I reflexively cover myself from it. When I look again, a card is flipped up.

**Spacegate**  
**Continuous Trap Card**

"Spacegate gains a Gate Counter at the end of each turn for each monster you control that attacked. Blue Sirius, Night's End and Dark End Dragon have attacked, meaning Space Gate gains three Gate Counters!" He says as three stars begin orbiting around the Spacegate card.

"MY TURN!" Jack declares, but his face is still stern as he draws his card. He's only got two cards in his hand, it's not enough to beat me-

"I activate the effect of Chicken Race, paying 1000 Life Points to draw an additional card!" Jack declares, and when he sees the card he drew his face lights up. Oh. Oh… shit.

**Jack: 2500 - 1500**

"I first activate the effect of Trap Eater in my hand! By sending one face-up Trap Card my opponent controls, like your Call of the Haunted, to the Graveyard, I can Special Summon it!" Suddenly the Call of the Haunted that was still on my field is devoured by a cartoonishly large mouth as a purple… thing flies up and over to Jack's side of the field.

**Trap Eater**  
**Lv: 4**  
**ATK: 1900**

"I then Normal Summon Medium Piece Golem from my hand!" Jack declares as a being made of rock with two, orange, glowing eyes takes a fighting stance besides the mouth-monster.

**Medium Piece Golem**  
**Lv: 4**  
**ATK: 1600**

"Now I Tune the Level 4 Medium Piece Golem with the Level 4 Tuner Monster, Trap Eater!" The mouth-thing turns into four green rings itself that surround the golem, revealing the four stars inside it as well before unleashing a bright green beam of light.

"_The rulers' heartbeat will now file through here!"_ Emerging from the light comes a pair of arms, a pair of legs and a long, winding tail all black and crimson. _"Bear witness to its creation-shaking power!"_ Two large, spiked wings make themselves known as a pair of red eyes are revealed by the sheer power of their glow.

"Synchro Summon! Come, Level 8! Red Dragon Archfiend!"

And then the head emerges, raising itself towards the ceiling and letting out a deafening roar. I swear I can see chairs in the theatre be blown away as the kingly dragon turns towards my dragon with a challenging glare.

**Red Dragon Archfiend**  
**Lv: 8**  
**ATK: 3000**

It's there… it's so real. It's nothing like my Dark End Dragon. I… I want it. I want that thing so bad, but if there's anything I feel right now it's fear. Just looking at his dragon makes me feel small and insignificant. I feel powerless. Normally I would hate it, but all I do right now is _fear it_.

"Y-Your Synchro Summon is in vain, Atlas!" I yell at him defiantly, but I can't control myself. My terror is leaking into my voice. "My Life Points are still lower than yours, so it doesn't matter! You can't touch me!"

"Oh really?" Jack replies, and my body freezes up as I look at Spacegate. "The effect of Spacegate activates! I can send it to the Graveyard to Special Summon one monster from my hand whose Level is equal to or lower than the amount of Gate Counters on Spacegate! Spacegate has three counters, so I Special Summon Small Piece Golem!"

The three stars start swirling and between them emerges a small rock-thing with cartoony eyes that takes a defiant fighting pose.

**Small Piece Golem**  
**Lv: 3**  
**ATK: 1100**

"You said it yourself," Jack begins. "-the winner will be the one willing to reach into the jaws of defeat and grasp victory! And I, Jack Atlas, will grasp it firmly with all of my might! Battle Phase! Small Piece Golem attacks Dark End Dragon!" He declares, and the tiny thing jumps at my blackened dragon. It cries out defiantly, but it is slam-dunked into the ground by Dark End Dragon with the same amount of effort as one would swat a fly.

**Jack: 1500 - 300**

"No!" I cry out in realization as I see what he's done. "Red Dragon Archfiend! Attack Dark End Dragon! _Absolute Powerforce!"_

Red Dragon Archfiend reels its right hand backwards and fire envelops it. Then it holds its clawed hand open and thrusts its titanic arm towards Dark End Dragon. My dragon lets loose a blast of black light at his dragon, but he just pushes through the sheer power of it and reaches into Dark End Dragon's mouth on its body and rips my dragon in two, letting out a triumphant roar as my dragon explodes into dark light.

And I scream. No matter if it's a hologram, in that moment everything was real. In that moment, Red Dragon Archfiend was there. Reaching for me.

**Jay: 300 - 0**

**JACK ATLAS WINS!**

* * *

As I'm lying on my back on the dirty, dusty theatre floor while the holograms fade away, Jack puts his Duel Disk away and looks at me. I say nothing. I lost. His dragon was at my fingertips… and I lost grip of it. I was so close.

Maybe it was impossible from the start. Maybe he really is protected by fate, like the old man's books says he is. Maybe he really is a King by birth.

I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

When I get up, I can even see Atlas smile a bit himself. "You proved me wrong, Atlas," I say to him. "You really are meant to have that dragon."

"Of course I am. I'm King… aren't I?"

"Of course. A deal's a deal," I say and get up to lean up against one of the concrete pillars. "As you know, there's only one way to the City - through the garbage chute. But even if you could get through there, it's only open for maintenance for three minutes. Be any slower and you're stuck."

"But I… I can keep that chute open for you," I say. "But you'll need something to get the Bureau to open up for you. Two cards. One you have already, your Red Dragon Archfiend. But the Bureau wants to see another. They want to see… Stardust Dragon."

If I sprung that on him before, I'm sure he would have said no. Even if he's disdainful of Yusei, I doubt he'd want to lower himself to theft. But now, after he's had a taste of being King? He'll do anything to keep his grip on victory firm.

"Of course you'll need a Duel Runner to even get through that chute in time regardless, but… you're a resourceful King, aren't you?" I say, and I'm sure Atlas catches the hint. He doesn't say anything though. I pull out my satellite phone and show it to him. "Tomorrow night the chute will open for the King. Make sure he's there," I say to him, I put the phone back in my pocket and pick up my Duel Disk.

As I walk out of the theatre, I hear Atlas clear his voice.

For a moment, he says nothing.

"Your King will be there."

I resist the urge to pump my fists in satisfaction over a job well done, but I do allow myself to smile as I leave.

_**Chapter 4: In the Court of the Crimson King - END**_

* * *

**Author's Note:** This chapter is the other half of what was originally Chapter 3, but I originally the Duel was even shorter and way worse, if I'm being honest. However, what this became in the end is something I'm quite proud of. The Duel flows way better than it originally did, and I'm glad I made the decision to split the chapter up. Of course, by nature the Duel itself takes up a ton of the chapter itself - so if it is the chapter itself, it has to be good.

Another thing I was originally struggling with was how to fit Jay into the overarching story of the Fortune Cup/Dark Signer storylines without ruining the original story. I didn't want to have to make up something like "oh Jay is actually meant to help the Signers which is why he's in the centre of everything" because that would bloat the story and make him less of a character and more of a plot tumor on legs.

Hence I filed away Yeager's original role as the one who encouraged Jack to steal Stardust Dragon and Yusei's D-Wheel to escape the Satellite and replaced him with Jay. Yeager is a very unimportant character by and large in the storyline, so it made perfect sense to replace his presence with Jay instead. That way he can still interact with Yusei and Co. without me having to grind the story itself to a halt to allow it.

Regardless, I hope you think I've done a good job, and that Chapter 4 was worth the wait. I will see you all in the next chapter going forward, and I hope you'll stick with me!


	6. Chapter 5: Ain't No Easy Way

_**Chapter 5: Ain't No Easy Way**_

You know - I could go on and on about how I was so fuckin' smart to play Jack into my hand to get him to head to the City and to give Yusei a reason to come after him, but I won't. I'm not my old man's son, so I don't intend to brag.

Oh fuck you, of course I'm lying. Playing somebody like a fiddle like that will make any guy giddy over how damn smart he is. You don't think I felt that way when the old man told me over the satellite phone that Jack Atlas had come driving through the garbage chute on a white D-Wheel with two Signer Dragons in hand?

Instinctively, I knew he'd show up. He's meant to be King, I saw that much for myself during our duel. He's got destiny in his corner, is what I'm saying. He's born for that throne, and that dragon meant to be reigning alongside him. I can barely wait to see him take what's rightfully his, to see destiny play out on a grand scale. To see a real King of Games work his magic.

Of course I can't help but be a jealous little fuck when I see power like that. I'll bet you that there'll be a thousand other people just like me who'll try and bring down the King in single combat. And just like me, they'll always end up falling short of the throne. That man, he's protected. Those Signers, they're destined for that kind of greatness.

Makes me twice as jealous when I consider my own mark, even if it's been quiet the last few days. He hasn't been here either since I stepped foot on the Satellite, and I take that as a good thing. Every moment of peace I get from the bastard is a moment treasured. Maybe… maybe I could stay. Rally would still want me, wouldn't he? Yusei would as well - and Taka, Blitz and Nerve?

Of course they wouldn't. By now, they'll know. One day I show up, and the next Atlas steals that D-Wheel and runs off into the night with it - even Rally could figure out that much. God, that fucking helicopter better be here soon, I need to get my mind off of these pipe dreams.

And sure enough, there it is. A Bureau helicopter descends from the sky and a door opens for me. I rush inside and tell the pilot in the most direct manner possible to get me the fuck off this shithole before anyone sees us and does something stupid. And sure enough, the moment we take off I see several Satellite citizens come out the woodwork. Nobody tries anything though, they just stare up at me like kids as I leave.

I show them my favorite finger as I head home. I lean back against the seat and push my feet against the seat in front of me, no doubt digging into the back of the Bureau agent acting as co-pilot in this fucking thing.

You really can tell when you get away from the smog of the Satellite, it's like the whole sky just brightens up when you get past a certain point. Despite myself I sneak a little peek backwards, down at that little shithole of a place to live. I wonder what Rally and the others are eating today.

I feel my stomach churn just a little, and I know that I won't be eating today. At least the weather is somewhat nice now compared to when I went away, but I have no reason to enjoy it. I need to get back home and punch something before I punch someone. My leg starts twitching and my knuckles start itching, and I involuntarily grind my teeth together.

Fucking finally the helicopter makes it back to the City. I don't give anyone a chance, I practically tear the door open and hop back out onto solid ground - I immediately feel a little queasy but I gulp it down. Can't throw up just yet, hold it together. As I stand there underneath the still-spinning rotors sucking air into my lungs I feel the old man put a metal hand on my shoulder. "Breathe, Jay. You're doing okay."

At least this time I don't have to wait to be driven back, the old man was kind enough to just set me off at his giant mega-mansion or whatever people call it. Still, I shove his hand off of my shoulder in annoyance. "Of course I am," I snap at him while walking back inside the big castle. I kick the door open, and right there, leaning against the wall is where He's waiting for me.

He says nothing as I feel my forearm ache. He looks at me with His piercing red eyes underneath the mess of red hair He has instead of my natural chestnut brown and doesn't say a single thing. I spit in His direction and he just gives a slight 'tsk' as I walk right buy Him. I immediately head for my room, and I only stop when I see Aya standing by the window looking out at the sky.

I grab her by the shoulder to get her attention. She yelps as she feels my hand grip onto her, and I give her the strongest glare I can possibly muster. "Dinner to my room. Now." That's all I say before shoving her away from me as I stalk down the hallway towards my room. When I glance back at her, I see Him stand there next to her. He fakes kissing her on the cheek and I shudder involuntarily.

I run, and then just sprint to my room. Everything has been left right where it was from when I left, the only change is that it's been cleaned. Except for one thing, there's a small box on the nightstand next to my bed. I open it and inside is a set of keys, but for what I have no idea. I decide to ask later, de-stress now as I pull out my roll of boxing tape and apply it - I take off my parka and shirt leaving myself topless. I hear and feel my stomach grumble and I experimentally poke it with one finger. I still feel queasy, but I'm starving for food since I went to the Satellite.

God, this must be what Rally and the others feel every single day. I snarl in frustration and give the punching bag a violent first blow out of pure instinct and wince as I feel a soft pain in my wrist. I grunt something under my breath but otherwise I just ignore it and get to punching and kicking. I need to stop thinking, I need to stop thinking, I don't want to think, I don't want to think.

It all fades away beneath the comfortable haze of anger and frustration. My speed starts to increase, I start hitting the bag harder and harder and the slapping of my skin against nylon starts to get louder and louder. Everything else goes away, and I start to smile as I work out my problems on a poor defenseless punching bag.

Yeah, fuck this bag. Fuck this stupid piece of shit, it's beneath me. I'm cool, I'm handsome, I'm badass. I'm great, and you're nothing but a piece of dogshit on my path to wherever the hell I want to go. I don't give a damn about what you think or who you are, you don't mean anything to me. If you won't get out of my way, I'll make you.

_You're gonna fucking question me? You're pissing me off something fierce, you little shit. You get the fuck out of my way or I'll-_

It's only know that I realize what's happening. The bag broke a long time ago. My fists are bleeding. My heart is hammering out of my chest. I'm punching the floor, like I'm on top of something… or someone.

"_**FUCK!"**_

I feel like an animal, covered in a sheen of sweat and panting loudly like a dog. Like an angry guard dog you beat up and occasionally let out to attack somebody. I feel reduced, I feel out of control.

I look to my right and I see Aya, standing there. Her face is white as a sheet. How long must've she been standing there? How much did she see?

Doesn't matter. I get up and I stomp towards her, practically ripping the tray out of her hands when she doesn't dare sit it down on a table. "_Get out,_" I snarl at her and she acquiesces immediately.

I slam the door shut and there He is, looking at me with a smug expression as I try and make sense of what I'm feeling right now. On one hand I've eaten practically nothing but bits of dried meat for about two days now and I'm starving, on the other I feel like anything I try and eat I'll just vomit right back up.

"Fuck it," I utter and start stuffing my face. It's tiny pieces of bread with exotic meats, sauteed in what must be wine, all arranged in immaculate squares that fit perfectly into a snooty socialite's mouth. I'm no socialite, so I stuff my mouth with at least three at a time; barely even managing to pull the toothpicks out before I chew down.

The meat is still warm, and there's a hint of a fragrant sauce. They must've been cooked to perfection not long ago, Aya can't have been there for long.

"You're one rude cellmate," He says.

"Fuhk youh," I reply while still eating. I don't have much in the way of politeness for anyone, much less this asshole. "If it bothers you, fuck off."

"Just walking right past me when I was there to welcome you back home," He replies and I make a spitting sound at him after gulping down a mouthful of bread and meat. "We haven't talked in two days-"

"Yeah," I say, interrupting Him. "It was pretty great. Wouldn't mind it continued for a bit more."

"You wound me, Jay."

"I do that to a lot of people. Suck it up."

I eat afterwards in silence. I turn my head to my left once to see if He's still there, but He's gone. I'm all alone with my thoughts. I can feel my stomach churning, but I'm not throwing it all up just yet, which I suppose is a good thing so far.

My forearm is still glowing, but only a tiny bit - frankly it's barely even noticeable. I slow down my eating pace and start savoring the bits instead. They're chewy but tender like meat should be, flame-grilled and have that hint of wine alongside the strong sauce to create a delicious blend of flavour.

_I bet Rally would die if he knew food like this existed._

And just like that, I'm bent over my trash can, throwing up bile.

About half an hour later the old man steps into my room to find me half-passed out on my bed.

"I'm exhausted," I say. "Fuck off."

For added effect, I shift my position on the bed so I'm facing away from him in the hopes that he'll take the hint and go away.

When I feel his cold metal hand on my shoulder, that bit of hope goes right out the window.

"You've done a great service, Jay," he says as he does what he probably thinks is gently caressing me. However, I've just stopped vomiting up what felt like my entire stomach and half a lung - so I grumble impotently a bit into my pillow but do nothing.

"But I came to ask you something important. Did you Duel Jack Atlas?"

For about a solid minute, I don't say anything in response. He stops caressing me and starts to squeeze ever so slightly.

"Yeah," I say, my voice hoarse after all the throwing up I've been doing. "I did."

"Then…" he says, but stops as if he can't decide how to formulate himself, choosing his words carefully with me. "Would you say he is suited to be King?"

I pull my head up from the pillow and look at him lazily.

"You were watching that duel, don't try and make me think otherwise."

"Of course, Jay. But I want to hear what _you_, yourself think."

"I was the one dueling him. You know exactly what happened, so don't you try and pretend this is because you care."

The old man sighs audibly and starts to caress me a little again. "Why, Jay? Why do you hate me so much?"

I'll admit, that sentence caught me off-guard. I didn't expect him to say something like that. Damnit, I don't know how to react; that's what he wanted, wasn't it? That manipulative son of a bitch. All I do is just huff and move a little more away from him.

He stops caressing me and stays there for a short moment before getting up. "When you're feeling okay again, come to my office - and bring the present I left you. I have something to show you." And just like that, he leaves me alone. I need to figure out how I made him leave that easily - could be nice to know for when he decides to intrude again.

God, my body feels like it's in the midst of a slow-mo seizure. Like the power to a machine is going too strong, stronger than the machine can handle and the thing starts to go haywire. I'm twitching involuntarily, my teeth are unintentionally gnashing together. My forearm is throbbing.

After what I _think_ is an hour - but what the sun outside tells me was a hell of a lot longer; I get my lazy ass off the bed. I'm covered in a slick sheen of sweat, my knuckles are still bleeding. My heart is beating at record pace. I let out a sound that sounds like the angry growl of a dog as I look across my room to affirm that it's empty. It wouldn't surprise me if the old man had left someone back here to watch me.

I see Him standing there, in place of anyone else. Or rather, He's sitting there in the back of the room, His eyes fixed on me. Like He's been watching over me or something. His expression isn't smug or demeaning like it usually is, now it's just a scowl and an almost concerned look.

I make sure to show Him my favorite finger as I leave the room.

"-I understand why you have your concerns, Yeager; but this seems more like a childish vendetta from your part."

"Director, with all due respect, your son is volatile at best. His actions in the Satellite-"

"-expedited our operations and made sure we have two Signers in the City, thanks to my son's ingenuity."

"_And_ risked exposing our agenda to them! Director, _with all due respect_-"

That's when I decided to crash the little conversation between the old man and the comedy act. I was still shirtless, and I could see the clown's eyes narrow at me as I entered the old man's office - he wanted to call me out for my disrespect, but knew he couldn't.

"Is it just me, or does every time someone says 'with all due respect' really mean 'kiss my ass'?" I say, rubbing it in. Yeager not managing to hold in a sputter made it worth whatever reprimand the old man will give me. Or so was my line of thought, but I have to admit - when he smiled at my wisecrack, I ended up smiling despite myself.

"I suppose I should apologise for the interruption?" I say, setting up an easy one for the old man, but still getting in my little dig at the clown as I stand at faux-attention to the old man, not glancing at the poor guy in the verbal 'hit the target to watch the idiot fall down' machine.

"It's quite alright. We weren't talking about anything worthwhile regardless," he finishes with a small smirk on his face as well. I don't look at him, but I can _feel_ the kind of death glare the clown is giving me. And honestly, it feels good. It's like the one time the old man made the mistake of trying to bring me to a social gathering, just with less yelling and considerably less good food.

Shame I had to throw my lunch up, it tasted quite nice.

"So when is Atlas going to be taking his place as King?" I say, taking control of the conversation.

"You say that like it's a certainty, Jay."

"That's because it is. I Dueled him back in the Satellite and I'm telling you, whoever the current King is has no damn chance. None whatsoever."

"Really? You're that confident in him?"

"He's a Signer. Nobody can beat him."

"Not even you?"

I don't reply, not for a few moments. He caught me off guard with that comment.

"No. Not even me." With that comment, the old man gets up from his chair behind a big oak desk and looks at me even as he towers over me. "You saw the present I left for you, right?"

"Yeah. A set of keys, why?"

"Dueling here in the City is more than just standing on solid ground, putting cards in slots. The stadium is meant for more than that."

"Riding Duels, right?" I say, and then it hits me. It's only now I realize what these keys are, and what kind of implications they have. For almost half a minute, I am dead silent, staring intently at the keys in the palm of my hand.

If these are what I think they are… then I can get my rematch. I can relive that kind of rush.

"If I… focus…" I say, choosing my words carefully. Whatever the cost, I need to get the old man to agree to this. I need this. I need this for me. "Could I… face him again? Before he becomes King?"

The old man smiles. "You'll get one month. Not anybody can just face the King without having to… prove himself first."

I end up smiling. I just got his tacit approval to learn to ride a D-Wheel and face Jack Atlas again. "I'll just… leave the two of you to whatever you were doing," I say, and immediately leave before anyone can object.

Honestly, I couldn't care less about what they're up to right now. I rush back to my room and start poring over my deck. Then I realize that I'll need to remake the whole thing because of how Riding Duels work, and the last thing I do before I fall asleep is thump my head into a wall in frustration.

When I wake up, by some manner of sorcery it's actually somewhat early in the morning; judging by how fiercely I spook Aya when she comes in to clean.

"Master Jay?! You're awake?!" She says, spooked but mostly just confused I suppose - and looking back I suppose she would be confused. I usually wake up late and sleep later; depending on if I managed to sneak out and get ahold of anything from the city.

"Breakfast," I groan into my pillow. A few minutes later she comes back with a plate of buttered bread, bacon, scrambled eggs, sausages and apple and orange juice.

"Oi!" I yell at her as she turns to leave. "Thanks," I say in between bites of breakfast and she looks just as shocked as when she saw me wake up. Perhaps she's just not used to seeing me not act like a punk towards her for once.

I suppose I'm gonna have to throw something at her, later today. Can't let her get used to me being this much of a pussy.

As I'm getting dressed, I hear metallic knocking on my door. I yell "One damn minute, alright?!" as I get another olive-green shirt on and wipe my mouth with a stray piece of wrapping tape before throwing it in the trash. Outside my door is the old man. "Are you coming?" He says with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah," I say as I give the set of keys in my pocket a feel. "Let's go."

He leads me back to the elevator and I follow along. I feel my wrist throbbing a little for just a second, but otherwise nothing. He's nowhere to be seen. After a short moment the elevator stops and he leads me to a garage. In said garage there's a few cars, the limousine I was usually driven to Academia by - and the one thing I've been eagerly awaiting.

Right there in front of me is a a D-Wheel. No, not _a_ D-Wheel. _My_ D-Wheel.

"Do you like it?" The old man says, but I ignore him as I walk closer to it. I run my hands across the dark gray and dusty white panelling. It looks very much like a chopper, and it's got all the works. A wide leather seat that lets the rider sit upright, a dueling pad between the legs below the instrument dashboard and a card holder on the right and a deck holder on the left. But it's missing one thing.

"It needs a name," I say.

"It's yours," the old man says. "Call it whatever you wish."

I spend a few moments there, wondering what to call it. But then it hits me. I know exactly what to call it. I put my ass in the seat and put the key in the ignition. It lets out a loud, deep whine as the Ener-D engine spools up inside.

"I know what it needs to be called."

"And what is that, Jay?"

I give the old man a wide, feral smile as I rev the engine. "_The Fortunate Son_," I reply.

_**Chapter 5: Ain't No Easy Way - END**_


	7. Chapter 6: Starless

_**Chapter 6: Starless**_

Riding a D-Wheel is one thing. Screaming down a track on that D-Wheel at speeds in excess of 120 mp/h is another thing. Racing down a track at said speeds while also Dueling is extreme by anyone's standards.

And I take to it like a tiger takes to swimming. It comes to me like it's natural, like I've done it years in advance. Riding down a track, feeling the wind rushing around me - coupled with an honest game. It feels like a drug, and I can't keep my excitement muted about going up against Atlas again.

Normally I'd have no idea why. I lost to him, he pulled a combination out of his ass and crushed me. I should be jealous of him, his dragon should be mine by now - but I'm not. I lost, and I just took it.

Because I think, I can feel it in my heart that that's not why I lost. And for some reason it doesn't feel so bad to lose, not to him. Perhaps it's because I've finally found someone I think is worthy to lose to?

One thing that's been on my mind since the moment I lost to him was destiny. I saw fate unfold itself like a flower right in front of me and hand me the most decisive loss I've ever experienced in my life.

It sparked a thought inside my head. A little hope, you could call it. If you called it that to my face I'd beat you black and blue, but you'd be right.

If Atlas really does have destiny in his corner, if he really is meant to be King - then that means that fate really does exist. There is something or someone making everything happen as it should happen. That means that there's a plan, like a schematic or structure that everything is supposed to follow.

So where do I fit in? What am I destined for? It can't have been coincidence, me being plucked away from my parents and made the adoptive son of the most powerful man in all of Neo Domino. There must have been a reason for it.

I have to be something in this plan. Maybe that's why I'm taking to riding a D-Wheel so easily. Maybe I'm meant to be there, his last obstacle to becoming King. Or maybe this is just chance, maybe this is just a result of the uncaring variables of the universe.

But I have to face him regardless. I need to know if this was meant to happen. I need to know if I'm doing this because I want to or because I have to.

Fuck me, I'm sounding like the dumb literature books we had to read back in Academia. Talking about God or destiny or fate or whatever they decided to fantasize about while high, it's a different thing when you've seen the real thing happen in front of you.

At least Atlas is a more interesting King than that loser Homura ever was. I saw him crush him live on TV, does the former King have anything to his name other than Giant Ushi Oni? Nothing but attack attack attack, not a single plan to his name if he got overwhelmed. Just mindless attacking, just basic strategies a child could use.

Wow, your enemy attacked and you used Mirror Force? How very intelligent of you to use the most basic cards ever created. Atlas creamed him and didn't even break a sweat. Shit, I could've beaten him and become King of Riding Duels. It really puts things into perspective how much time I've been wasting.

But now, now what matters is that I'm about to become a professional D-Wheeler myself. I'm about to become something, I'm going to ride in front of thousands of people and amaze them with my death-defying dueling. One week ago the Bureau publicized the four contestants - one of them being Jay Goodwin, and his opponent being Jin Homura. Heh, I guess destiny really does have a say.

Besides, if Atlas really is destined to reign as King then I'm just going to have him work for it. It's only hours away and I'm antsy as all hell. I'm one of four Duelists from Neo Domino that are drooling to snatch the crown right out of Atlas's hands. That means two others are going to get in my way - two others I have to stomp into the curb to get to Atlas.

Even better, as the one I go up against in the first round happens to be Homura himself, eager to reclaim what was taken from him. If I'm being honest, I did kind of want it to be him. I just imagined myself having been there first and taken the crown from him - and now I want a bit of closure to that line of thought. Could I have been King if I came first?

Could I have been the one to enjoy the high life - however short lived it might have been?

Shit, now I'm starting to feel jealous again. But fuck, whatever I just imagined "the high life" to be, now that I'm thinking about it it probably wouldn't be much different from how life is right now. Actually, I think it would have been exactly the same. It wouldn't surprise me if the old man is breathing down Atlas' neck just as much as he's breathing down mine.

Atlas is a big entertainment act the old man has rolled out, the circus half of bread and circus. And I'm fighting for the shot at becoming the circus jester with a crown on his head. But what does it really mean to be at the top? Fuck whether or not Atlas actually is free to ride as he wants, what matters is if he thinks he is, and if he does what does he feel?

What's it like feeling like you're King?

I have to know. And I have to crush anyone in the way of it.

I don't sleep at all the night leading up to it. I go through my deck endlessly, and it's a strange feeling not being able to change it. I sent in the decklist a week ago, now I can't change anything. The 40 cards I have here plus the few cards in my Extra Deck are the ones I have to make do with. Too late to back out now.

I think I like this feeling. My neck is bared and stuck inside the guillotine, there's no escaping. Live or die, win or lose. I'm gonna go balls-first into the big wide world waiting for me, no point in letting the future get the jump on me if I can jump first.

In the early hours of the morning, before Aya can wake me up - the sun has only just started rising, I put on jeans and button up my green shirt, then tying the Academia jacket around my waist and let it flop around. A pair of solid military boots go on and then I grab my Duel Disk and Deck. It feels like it weighs three times what it normally does.

My helmet goes under my other shoulder and I march out of my room. The silence is deafening as I head down to the garage where Fortunate Son is parked. I stow the Duel Disk in the small storage compartment, put on my helmet and put the key in the ignition. It comes to life with the shrill whirr of the Ener-D reactor inside spooling up, and the engine starts rumbling.

I seat myself and rev the engine, wanting to feel the kind of power this machine has. What starts as a rumble becomes a low roar, going right into my bones every time I rev it up. It feels like nothing else.

And then I let it loose. I come roaring out of the garage and begin blasting down the road leading down to Neo Domino at high speed.

It's an absolutely magical feeling, riding a D-Wheel. In an instant, you realize why it's difficult to explain the moment you feel it. It's not like driving a car, or even riding a normal non-Ener-D-powered motorbike. The experience of it all is more like becoming part of the wind itself rather than pushing your way through it.

Like being the rainfall on a grassy hill, like being the warmth on a sun-kissed plain.

It only gets even better when you start dueling as well. I liked the game before I ever sat myself down on a D-Wheel, but now I'm enraptured by it - you could almost call it addiction, heh.

I'm almost tempted to go speeding on the highways so Security comes after me. Then I could crush one of their officers in a Duel as warm-up for my big match against the former champ.

If it wasn't for the people likely calling for my withdrawal from the tournament for breaking the law, I would do it. If I knew for sure that I could get away with it, I would do it in a heartbeat.

But I can't do that. Instead, I have to settle for Atlas's sloppy seconds. Oh fuck, that Homura son of a bitch. I can't wait to humiliate him and his reckless idiot ass in front of the entire city. His strategy is so infernally simple and boring, a child could work around it.

Perhaps it says something to how everyone else Duels in this city. Good thing I'm here to spice things up. After a long drive down the highway streets I finally make it to the stadium. The sun is finally properly over the horizon as I pull up outside it, bathing the city in a warm orange glow. The eternal glimmer of windows, advertisements and the rest of Neo Domino's nightlife fades away as the sun takes its place.

I force myself to gulp down the desire to throw up the moment I remind myself of Rally. Fuck, of all the damn things to feel guilty about. So Rally's never seen the paradise he's carrying on his shoulders and never will, being condemned to a life living in a polluted, crime-ridden impoverished hellhole.

So what? Tough shit, we all get born with our own problems. My life isn't much easier.

When I see Him leaning up against the side of the entrance gate, I let out a sound similar to a growl. Before He can say anything, I give him a curt "Shut the fuck up."

He raises his hands in a "calm down, I haven't done anything yet" gesture.

"I'm in no mood for a guilt trip. Keep your mouth shut and fuck off."

He says nothing, but he pushes Himself away from the wall he was supporting himself against and starts walking over towards me and the Fortunate Son. I stop paying him any mind and just start going through my deck one last time. Reminding myself of my strategies, my pre-thought combinations and my improvisation tools.

I came here early for one reason; to mark my territory like how an animal pisses up against things to mark it.

When the three other nobodies in my way to Atlas show up, I want to be the very first thing they see. It's a display of dominance, like a lion roaring or a gorilla thumping its chest.

And now I regret it, because it means I'm gonna be here for hours with this son of a bitch as my only company.

But this time, it's different. This time he says nothing. He stands there, watching me in total silence. Why isn't he saying anything, why isn't he giving me another bullshit speech?

It gives me the fucking creeps, I'm honestly relieved when I see another D-Wheel come blasting down the highway towards me.

I recognize it from the hours of archival footage I trawled through in preparation for this moment. It's the D-Wheel of the previous King of Riding Duels, recently deposed.

I'm imagining he had the same idea I did, and I got here first. Hahaha. I guess Jin Homura is fated for second place even like this. Poetic, really.

He comes to a halt and pulls off his helmet, wanting to size me up I assume. I don't let him cow me even in the slightest, I deal with worse on a daily basis from Him, I can handle a soon-to-be washed up nobody.

"I take it you're the Director's kid?" There's a hint of a smirk on his lips. "How much did he pay to get you in the lineup?"

"I dunno. How much do you get in unemployment benefits?"

I think I touched a nerve with that one. I guess his dumbass pride doesn't like being spoken to like this by who in his eyes is nothing but an upstart punk.

No wonder Atlas creamed him and left the bits and pieces on the sidewalk if he's this easy to provoke. I think this entire Duel is comfortably in my hand, now.

"Have you ever been in a professional Riding Duel before?" His retort shuts me up fast.

I'm starting to see approaching traffic. I give him an annoyed 'tch' and start wheeling the Fortunate Son around the back to the contestant's entrance. I can feel his glare bore holes in my back as I leave.

* * *

The moment the platform raises up and the four of us are presented in the middle of the Duel Stadium, I instantly understand what Atlas was here for. The stadium is packed chock-full of spectators with nary an empty seat in sight, and the sound of their cheering is incredible.

"_**Everybody listen!**_" The emcee calls out in his signature bombastic tone, and I nearly pinch myself. I can't believe I'm really here.

"_**Today the Director himself has set up something special for us all! Four contestants, the best of the best have gathered here to fight for the right to challenge the King himself!**_"

The holographic sphere hovering above us showcases our mugshots. I myself am on the lower right, flashing a wide, toothy grin. I was aiming for a confident grin, but in hindsight I look more psychotic than anything else. Facing me is the mugshot of Homura himself, my opponent for today.

Above our two mugshots are an orange-haired guy with a big biker motif, I believe I remember his name being… Mukuro something. I think he's got a flaming skull thing going on with his deck. Across from him is the head of a huge guy with a haircut that reminds me a little of Yusei's, except perhaps less ridiculous. But after seeing a haircut like that, anything black and yellow reminds me of him. Dragan, he's called. Never seen him before, he must be new to this scene.

"And of course, to survey his challengers with his keen eye, the King Himself is here!" Pointing up to the director's lounge, the holographic sphere displays a picture of Atlas himself from up there in the lounge, looking down at us. The crowd goes wild the moment they see him, going from loud to deafening.

He says nothing, and I don't think he needs to. Just his presence here is sending these people into an excited frenzy. Now I understand why the old man wanted him here as King, these people are clamoring for him like subjects cry out for a rightful king. Jealousy and admiration blossoms up in my chest, and I swear we lock eyes for a moment when I look up towards him.

I put on my most confidently-psychotic smile as the platform lowers again and we all four split. First match of the day is me and Homura, and I catch him giving me a glare as he walks off to his own D-Wheel. I have to say, I'm feeling giddy inside as I walk away and give the Fortunate Son one last look-over and put on my helmet.

Huh… here goes nothing.

I slowly wheel it out to my assigned entrance, where I'm kept just out of the track itself outside of the crowd's view. I get on the Fortunate Son and rev the Ener-D engine inside, preparing myself for my assigned dramatic entrance onto the track. I'm out of view, but I can hear the crowd and feel the butterflies in my stomach.

"_**Our first contestant is a newcomer to the Pro Circuit, an upcoming prodigy! But can he make it all the way to the King?!**_"

Fortunate Son whines, and I set off.

"_**Come on out, the fortunate son of Neo Domino! JAY! GOODWIN!**_"

Fortunate Son leaps out of the entrance and the sound of whining Ener-D and screeching metal makes itself known as we land. I swerve from left to right to maintain control as the shock of the impact makes my momentum work against me for a moment.

This D-Wheel is like my body, and I am its soul. The moment I have control I do a lap around the track and raise my hand in a closed fist to play to the crowd. In hindsight their reaction was probably affected by them correctly assuming that the director gave his son the fourth spot, but at that point I didn't care. They cheered nonetheless, and the butterflies went crazy. I couldn't help but smile.

We come to a stop after the introductory lap, and I take the second-place starting position. Since Homura is the previously reigning champion, it makes sense to pander in that sense.

It's fine with me. I want him to go first.

"_**And his opponent, the previous reigning king come to retake his crown! But can his saga continue?!**_"

Here we go.

"_**Give us your dueling once more! Fallen King! JIN! HOMURA!**_"

From the opposite entrance, the previous King comes roaring out in all of his thunder. And when the crowd reacts, jealousy comes welling up again. Even if he's a loser, he was still King. His presence still stirs their hearts, even if just a little.

When he zooms past me to do his introductory lap, I can't help but feel angry. I want to humiliate this loser in front of a live audience, I want to show all of Neo Domino what a hack he is. And I want to do it honest, with a Deck I made myself.

He finally comes back around and stops at the pole position. Neither of us say anything, but we lock eyes even for just a second.

We're both putting our pride on the line.

Then, it happens. Speed World is activated, and technicolor dominates the field. Now, my old Field Spell strategy means nothing. Now, all we can use are Speed Spells, forcing us to plan ahead and think on our feet.

The countdown begins. A series of rapid beeps make my heart feel like it's pounding out of my chest.

"_**Riding Duel…**_"

Here goes.

"_**ACCELERATION!**_"

The siren howls, and the whining of Ener-D motors coupled with the screeching of metal wheels responds as we take off.

"_**DUEL!**_"

* * *

Loading Duel Format…

Duel Format loaded.

Anime Format (Riding Duel), 4000 Life Points.

**JAY:** 4000 LP, Hand 5, SC 0

**HOMURA:** 4000 LP, Hand 5, SC 0

* * *

As naturally as I've taken to riding a D-Wheel, Homura has years of experience on me not just in Riding Duels, but he's been King of this Dome for years before Atlas came and threw him out on his ass.

He's faster than me around the corner.

"_**The former King takes the first move!**_"

"My move!" Homura pulls a card out of his Deck and adds it to his hand.

"I Normal Summon Jirai Gumo in Attack Position!" There it comes, a favorite card of his - an ancient one at that. A large, fat spider emerges, drooling with hunger as it takes its place alongside its Duelist, making for a rather comical sight as a spider that grotesque flies gracefully through the air.

**Jirai Gumo  
****Lv: 4  
****ATK: 2200**

"_**Homura is exerting his pressure right out of the gate with huge Attack Points on the field! He's not about to make life easy for the rookie!**_"

As simple as his strategy is, Homura is smarter than he looks. Jirai Gumo's effect makes it a bad card, since it gives you a 60% chance to halve your Life Points right out of the gate if you make an attack with it. But if he doesn't attack with it, he has a 2200 Attack Point beefgate. A good defense is a strong offense. He's more alike the new King than he thinks.

"I Set three cards face-down!" Three face-down cards materialize in an arrow-head formation around Homura's D-Wheel before vanishing out of existence. That's the lynchpin of Homura's simple but effective strategy. Laying down powerful disruptive Trap Cards to keep you down while his high Attack Point monsters lay the beatdown.

Unluckily for him, I've come prepared against a strategy that brainless.

The crowd is tense as Homura ends his turn. He's erected a strong presence already, one designed to kill me if I'm careless. I'll have him show me the kinks in his armor himself.

"My turn!" A card is swiped off of the top of my Deck and into my hand. Explosive Urchin. Perfect.

"_**The effect of Speed World activates during every Standby Phase except the first! Both players gain a Speed Counter!**_"

**JAY:** **0 - 1 S.C**

**HOMURA: 0 - 1 S.C**

"_**Speed Counters are what fuel a D-Wheeler's magic! Speed Spells cannot be activated unless the user meets a Speed Counter requirement!**_"

"I Normal Summon Dark Crusader in Attack Position!" An armored skeleton knight in a flowing red cape carrying a sword that's less of a sword and more of a hunk of raw iron emerges beside me.

**Dark Crusader  
****Lv: 4  
****ATK: 1600**

"Trap Card, open!" Homura immediately declares, as I predicted. "Trap Hole!"

**Trap Hole  
****Normal Trap**

"The Fallen King sinks in his teeth! Trap Hole's effect triggers upon the Summon of a Monster with 1000 or more Attack Points, destroying it immediately!"

As quickly as he came, Dark Crusader splinters away into holographic shards of glass, and I let out a snarl of frustration. What's he thinking, playing like that?! He's boring, all he's doing is reacting! There's no intelligence in using a card like that, a KID could do that!

I compose myself. Everything is under control. Next turn, he'll see.

"I place two cards face-down," I declare as two face-down cards materialize on my left and my right before quickly vanishing as they came. My hand is down to three cards now, one of them completely useless to me. "My turn ends."

"It's my turn!" Homura draws again, and my heart skips a beat when I see him hold it for a moment. He's drawn exactly what he wants.

**JAY:** **1 - 2 S.C**

**HOMURA:** **1 - 2 S.C**

"I offer up Jirai Gumo to Tribute Summon Ushi Oni in Attack Position!" My heart half-sinks now, because I know what follows when Jirai Gumo is swallowed up in a sphere of Ener-D to bring forth a furious bull demon genie, raging out of its lamp.

**Ushi Oni  
****Lv: 6  
****ATK: 2150**

"_**There it is! One of the Fallen King's signature cards, Ushi Oni! Could it be, he's ready to summon his ace monster already?**_"

"The effect of Giant Ushi Oni in my hand is activated! I can Tribute one Ushi Oni I control to Special Summon it directly from my hand!" The yellow-ish bull demon twists and grows itself into a massive blue-skinned beast, with the lower body of a spider. The demonic creature snarls and growls as it takes its place beside its master - but it's turned backwards, looking straight towards me.

**Giant Ushi Oni  
****Lv: 8  
****ATK: 2600**

"_**As expected of the man who held the title of King! It's only his second turn, and already his ace monster is on the field! Our new rookie is in dire straits indeed!**_"

"Battle Phase!" Homura cries out over the whine of his engine, and his Giant Ushi Oni leaps into the air. "Giant Ushi Oni attacks directly!"

The massive spider demon lifts up its arms and slams them into the ground. The track buckles and twists under the force, in holographic display of course - sending a massive shockwave towards me. I instinctively swerve to avoid it, but no such thing is possible and I go into a humiliating spin.

**JAY:** **4000 - 1400**

**JAY:** **2 - 0 S.C**

"The fortunate son took a big hit! And here comes the consequence of taking damage! When you take damage in a Riding Duel, you lose a Speed Counter for every 1000 points of damage taken! That means the rookie is back to zero, and his Speed Spells are on lockdown!"

I finally wrest back control of my D-Wheel, only to see that Homura has completely lapped me with how much speed I lost. The moment he's about to pass me, I can see the dismissive grin on his face.

"Trap Card, open!" I say, pressing a button on the Fortunate Son's display, and my left-most face-down flips up. "Damage Condenser!"

**Damage Condenser  
****Normal Trap**

"_**And the Fortunate Son responds with a Trap Card of his own! Damage Condenser allows him to Special Summon any monster from his deck with Attack Points equal to or lower than his damage taken, at the cost of discarding a card! Giant Ushi Oni dealt a total of 2600 Attack Points with its direct attack, which means the rookie can Special Summon anything up to that number!**_"

Allowing the emcee to explain everything for me, I wordlessly slide the Shadow Impulse Trap Card from my hand and into my Graveyard. This had better work…

"From my Deck, I Special Summon Ghost Gardna in Defense Position!" Beside me, a winged statue-esque robot angel floats out to my aid and raises its shield-arms up in protection of me. This monster will be the lynchpin of my plan. I just have to hope Homura rises to the bait.

**Ghost Gardna  
****Lv: 4  
****DEF: 1900**

"Idiot!" Homura yells over the whine of our D-Wheels as he himself presses a button on his display. "Continuous Trap Card, open! Spiderweb Castle!"

**Spiderweb Castle  
****Continuous Trap**

The emcee goes crazy the moment it activates. "_**Homura seems to have planned ahead of the rookie's move! Spiderweb Castle is a Continuous Trap that can only be activated in response to your opponent activating a Trap Card! While it's face-up on the field, all of the Fortunate Son's attacking monsters will have their Attack Points halved! And even worse, the Fallen King can at any time send it to the Graveyard to allow his monster to attack his opponent directly!**_"

"That's right! And even worse - your line of Defense in Ghost Gardna means nothing!" Homura boasts, letting out a short laugh. "Whenever Giant Ushi Oni destroys a monster by battle, it's allowed to attack a second time in a row!"

This son of a bitch. This smug bastard, this ARROGANT LITTLE-

"Face it, rookie! You're too inexperienced to hack it in this-"

Furiously, I tap the activation button to my other Trap Card. "Continuous Trap Card, Open! EXPLOSIVE URCHIN!"

**Explosive Urchin  
****Continuous Trap**

The moment where Homura's expression promptly changes to abject surprise is one I still treasure to this day. He doesn't know the card - but when the emcee explains, he will understand.

"_**And the rookie hits back with his own Trap Card! Explosive Urchin, just like Spiderweb Castle can only be activated when your opponent activates a Trap Card! Now, for the next three turns, if Homura has a Trap Card face-up on his field, Explosive Urchin will shave off 1000 Life Points during every one of the Fortunate Son's Standby Phases! Was this is plan all along?!**_"

Of course it was! I know every facet of Homura's strategy, every single combination he relies on and prepared accordingly!

I had won before this Duel even began, and he hasn't even realized yet.

Wordlessly, with a scowl on his face, Homura slides a single face-down card to join his one remaining unrevealed Trap Card and the face-up Spiderweb Castle and gives me the turn.

Now, it's all riding on this one draw. Come on, I know you're there, waiting for me…

I yank the card out, and a smile spreads on my face. I knew it'd come through.

**JAY:** **0 - 1 S.C**

**HOMURA:** **2 - 3 S.C**

I yell out "Explosive Urchin!" and from the face-up Trap Card, an explosive mine resembling that of a sea urchin emerges from the card and rockets towards Homura. It flies in front of him and then goes off in a spectacular explosion, and Homura chickens out and starts swerving following the holographic boom.

**HOMURA:** **4000 - 3000**

**HOMURA: 3 - 2 S.C**

However - regardless of my current situation, going on the offensive now is suicide. One of the face-down cards Homura controls can't not be Mirror Force, and even if I had something with high enough Attack Points to break past Giant Ushi Oni, I'd need double that thanks to Spiderweb Castle's oppressive effect.

Luckily, I plan to win this Duel without a single attack declared, and the Effect Monster I just drew will do it for me.

"I Normal Summon Doomcaliber Knight in Attack Position!" Yet another skeleton-armored knight appears alongside me, except unlike Dark Crusader, Doomcaliber Knight is armed with both a sword and a shield and rides a black horse that whinnies proudly as it takes its place besides my D-Wheel, the horse galloping as fast as it can to keep up.

**Doomcaliber Knight  
****Lv: 4  
****ATK: 1900**

And now comes the moment of truth. This will either win me this Duel, or it will make me lose in disgrace. I declare that I'm placing a face-down card, and I slide my last usable card, Different Dimension Barrier - Lost Force into my middle Spell & Trap Card Zone.

That's the end of my turn.

"It looks like the Fortunate Son is trying to regain his footing with Doomcaliber Knight's oppressive effect! When any monster effect activates, Doomcaliber Knight will Tribute itself to negate and destroy it - it looks like he's staying on the defensive for now!"

Please take the bait, Homura. Be the meathead I know you are and walk right into it.

I feel a stroke of luck, because Homura revs his D-Wheel hard and blasts past me, a scowl on his face. He's angry, he's gonna rise to meet my challenge. Then, he turns back towards me. "You hear me, spoiled punk?!"

Don't get angry, don't get angry, don't let him get to you, don't give up your victory just because you're angry-

"This'll be the last turn of this Duel! You think you're smart enough to beat me? HUH?!"

Homura then speeds off and draws his card.

**JAY:** **1 - 2 S.C**

**HOMURA:** **2 - 3 S.C**

"Face-down Card, Open! Call of the Haunted!" Oh god, no. Do I have enough Life Points, do I have enough-

**Call of the Haunted  
****Continuous Trap**

"This is it, everyone! Homura is giving it everything he has! He's putting every bit he has against the newcomer, he's playing for keeps! Call of the Haunted allows him to Special Summon any Monster he wants from his Graveyard, right back onto his field!"

"From the Graveyard, return! Ushi Oni!" The bull-demon-genie returns again, in all of its furious glory.

**Ushi Oni  
****Lv: 6  
****ATK: 2150**

However… Homura doesn't attack immediately. He's hesitating? No… no he's figured something out. Don't tell me that he's-

"Rookie, rookie, a rookie to the last! I see you've made yourself a rookie mistake, one that's about to be your own downfall! You think your Doomcaliber Knight will destroy my Giant Ushi Oni once its effect triggers after destroying your Ghost Gardna, don't you? But you're forgetting that Doomcaliber Knight's effect triggers on the activation of ANY Monster Effect, including your own!

For example… your Ghost Gardna's effect that makes it the attack target of any attack I declare!"

The crowd goes crazy, jeering and screaming.

"_**The Fallen King is right! If Ghost Gardna's effect activates, Jay Goodwin's entire monster line will self-destruct and leave him wide open! Even with Ghost Gardna's secondary effect of reducing one of Homura's monster's Attack Points by 1000, he still has 3750 Attack Points on his side of the field - and Jay has only 1400 Life Points left! Is this the end already?!**_"

"Battle Phase! Giant Ushi Oni attacks Doomcaliber Knight!"

As the spider-demon rushes forward towards my knight, Ghost Gardna leaps in front of it and is promptly stabbed in the back by the monster it dove in front of to protect in abject betrayal. The two monsters promptly shatter in a brilliant yellow display… and leaves me wide open, even as Ghost Gardna reappears behind Ushi Oni and restrains it, reducing its Attack Points by 1000.

**Ushi Oni  
****ATK: 2150 - 1150**

And now, a replay occurs since one of the monsters involved in an attack left the field, allowing Homura to attack again. Homura grins wide, displayed prominently on the big screen. "SPECTER'S BITE!" He declares as a blast of purple miasma screams away from the spider demon's mouth and streams right towards me.

It's coming for me, it's going to defeat me and end this Duel and my career as a professional D-Wheeler early…

Or at least, if I hadn't been counting exactly on this happening.

"TRAP CARD!" I howl. "DIFFERENT DIMENSION BARRIER - LOST FORCE!"

**Different Dimension Barrier - Lost Force  
****Normal Trap**

A hole in reality appears and the screeching sound of a directed blast of power being blocked by reality itself starts echoing through the stadium. A pregnant moment passes, before the emcee realizes what I've done and loses his mind.

"_**I can't believe it, everyone! Jay Goodwin saw it coming! Different Dimension Barrier - Lost Force can only be activated in a turn where a monster he controlled left the field by any way except battle! It's effect negates an enemy monster's attack… and deals its Attack Points to its controller as damage!**_"

It happens so suddenly. In one moment the attack is still in the air, the next it changes direction as if it was always going that way and hits Homura hard, sending him spinning out of control.

**HOMURA:** **3000 - 400**

**HOMURA:** **3 - 1 S.C**

The crowd goes insane, cheering louder than ever before.

By the time he regains control, I zoom past him on the Fortunate Son, leering and laughing at him with my psycho-confidence grin, and I savor the look on his face as he realizes exactly what I've done this time.

I've played him - unless he can damage me for 250 on top of the 1150 his weakened Ushi Oni can damage him for, all he can do now is end his turn and allow Explosive Urchin to kill him. He can't even send Spiderweb Castle to the Graveyard to save himself from it - because he still has Call of the Haunted face-up on his side of the field, meaning he'd take the 1000 damage no matter what.

He walked right into my waiting mouth on his own, because he thought he had outsmarted him.

He starts to understand that I had beaten him before the Duel even began.

This rookie punk outsmarted the previous King.

That's gotta sting.

"Go ahead!" I yell at him over the wind. "Give up! I dare you, Homura!" I kick him verbally while he's down as bad as I possibly can. If he never comes back to the Pro Circuit after this, I'd consider it a job well done.

But no, no, he actually ends his turn! And get this, right after he gives me the stink-eye. He's not happy about what I just did.

I rev the Fortunate Son as hard as I can and blast off ahead of him so I can give him the deathblow.

All eyes are on me now.

I give the cameras another big psycho-grin and draw my card in an as extravagant manner as I possibly can.

I follow it up with a gesture with my empty hand, and Homura is given the deathblow by Explosive Urchin.

**HOMURA: 400 - 0**

**JAY GOODWIN WINS!**

* * *

His D-Wheel erupts in a cloud of smoke and he spins to a stop while I take a victory lap.

Buddy, if only you could experience what it's like riding a D-Wheel while a stadium full of people cry out your name.

It makes a life worth it.

_**Chapter 6: Starless - END**_

* * *

**Author's Note:** Doccy has been busy with university applications and making everything work under the extenuating circumstances of the worldwide Covid-19 outbreak, meaning Fortunate Son has been on hold. As the world health crisis abates, expect more updates.


End file.
